


The 12 Days of Murder

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: Magic Kaitou
Genre: Assassination, Gen, Gore, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the First Day of Murder, my lover gave to me.... a body in a pine tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first day, 26 Dec

**Author's Note:**

> 12 Days of Christmas, 12 Days of Murder.  
> One new chapter every day. Enjoy.

26 December, Boxing Day

The one funny thing of the entire incident was the horrified panicked expression on Kuroba's face as he flailed at the police officers circling around him.

"I DIDN'T DO IT!"

There were quite a few other things that Kuroba Kaito, sometimes known as Kid the Phantom Thief, had done. But murdering someone and stashing the body in a tree was definitely something he was innocent of.

Especially considering that Hakuba and the crowd of police officers gathering around could vouch for the Kaitou Kid being occupied elsewhere for the past hour or so, involved in the theft of a large pigeon's blood ruby.

The second bright spot, pale as it was, was the fact that Hakuba did not puke his guts out like Officer Adachi upon the realisation that the unusually tied body was devoid of head, hands and feet. The way the body was tied up made it apparent that there were no bones in her arms or legs.

It reminded Hakuba of a picture out of Julia Child's cookbooks, a de-boned duck ready to be popped into the oven.

"Cordon off this area!" Nakamori shouted, shaking off his shock faster than anyone else, waving an arm to the rest of his Task Force. "Let no one through! I want this area cleared of people! I want at least a 15 metre radius, no one in or out!"

The police officers jumped into action, some looking grateful to have something to do away from the disturbing corpse. Adachi especially, green to the gills as he staggered as far way as possible. Fortunately, the park was mostly clear from random passerby due to the late hour and the briskness of the winter air. Which might prove to be a blessing, the possibility of footsteps preserved in the frosted grass. As long as the Task Force didn't trample all over them.

Nakamori pulled out his mobile phone and began bellowing at dispatch, demanding a coroner’s wagon and some Division One officers. The Kaitou Kid Task Force was Division Two, Organised Crime, they didn’t deal with the Major Crimes, such as murder.

Hakuba sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. This meant dealing with Megure-keibu and his people. They were nice enough, but obviously felt that he was broaching into the territory of the sainted missing detective, Kudo Shin'ichi. Which meant alternating hot tempers and cold shoulders all night.

And paper work. Tonnes of paperwork. More so than usual.

Plus, the Kaitou Kid got away. Again.

"It's going to be a long night." He grumbled.

Kuroba looked at the chaos swarming around them, then over at Hakuba. "Y'think?"

Hakuba glared back. "What are you even doing here anyway?"

"Walking. This is the closest vending machine that carries my favourite hot cocoa." Kuroba reached into his jacket pockets and pulled out two hot steaming cans of cocoa, still sealed as evidence of his alibi. He held one out to Hakuba. "Here. You look like you could use one."

Hakuba's stomach debated for a moment whether or not adding anything was going to be a good idea. He reached out and took the offered can anyway, the heat sinking through the material of his gloves, warming his chilled fingers. "Thank you." He said quietly, cradling the warm can.

"Welcome." Kuroba shifted his weight back on his heels, glancing around. "We're not going anywhere for a while, are we?" He asked rhetorically.

"Considering you just stumbled upon a horrifically mutilated corpse?" Hakuba deadpanned. "Nope."

Kuroba swore softly.

+++ 


	2. The Second Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the Second day of murder, my lover gave to me, two...

+++

The Second Day, 27 December

After dealing with what seemed like an endless series of questions and a never-ending mountain of paperwork, both he and Kuroba ended up staggering out of the Metropolitan Police Headquarters sometime around 2am in the morning.

"And you go through this every Kid heist?" Kuroba managed to look both chipper and exhausted at the same time. "All the debriefing and paperwork?"

"In triplicate." Hakuba agreed. Although there was usually less talking. As Kuroba was the one to discover the body, and there being no one else around, he was currently the only suspect until the identity of the corpse could be discovered.

Seeing as the head and hands were gone, it was probably going to take a while. It would be three days before the DNA evidence could tell them anything. In the meantime, the woman was in the hands of the Medical Examiner and his assistants. The detailed report with their findings would be out later in the day.

"This." Hakuba pointed at Kuroba, vaguely annoyed at the way his hand swayed. "Is why that if I ever catch Kid the Phantom Thief, I am going to make him do all the paperwork for his own arrest."

Kuroba's face was carefully blank, but there was a spark of fear in Kuroba's eyes that cheered Hakuba immensely.

"You mean 'when'." A familiar rough voice growled. They turned to find Nakamori standing there, chewing on the end of an unlit pipe. "'When' we catch the Kaitou Kid." He said firmly.

"Yessir." Hakuba agreed, pointedly not looking at his personal number one suspect, who happened to be standing right next to him. " _When_ we catch him." He wondered if Nakamori ever suspected Kuroba of being the Kaitou Kid. Nakamori was familiar with both Kuroba and the Kid, having watched Kuroba grow up.

But if Nakamori did suspect Kuroba of being the Kid, he didn't show it. Nakamori snorted, pulling the pipe out of his mouth, dark expression never shifting. "C'mon. The trains stopped over an hour ago. I have a car waiting to return us home." He said, as if he hadn't been waiting for them for who knew how long in the lobby.

"Thank you, sir." Hakuba said gratefully. He could have called Baaya and woken her up, but he really rather the older woman got her sleep.

Nakamori made a grumbling sound, stalking out of the lobby with his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. Hakuba followed after, Kuroba hesitantly trailing behind. Hakuba wondered at Kuroba's abnormal reluctance until he saw the car that Nakamori had waiting for him.

It was a police car. Black and white, with all the bells, whistles, and lights on it.

He couldn't quite help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, quickly glancing at Kuroba, who was eyeing the car as if it might try to bite him.

"And we do not even require wearing handcuffs for the ride." He quipped.

He received a truly nasty glare in return, Kuroba stomping towards the car and climbing inside. Kuroba pointedly did not look at Hakuba as he climbed in to the backseat of the car next to the magician, reminding Hakuba of nothing more than an annoyed cat.

Nakamori climbed into the front seat, grumbling to himself about not being allowed to smoke as the car pulled away. Hakuba watched the coloured blurs of the late night world pass by them, not realising he fell asleep until they woke him up in front of his house.

It was slightly embarrassing due to the fact that he would have sworn that he wouldn't have gotten any sleep that night, images of the woman's butchered corpse springing to mind.

It was just a tad bit more embarrassing due to the fact that he and Kuroba had shifted away from the cold windows, shoulders pressed against each other as they slumbered. Or at least Hakuba napped, Kuroba could have been faking it for all he knew. Kuroba made grumbling noises of irritation as he woke up enough to untangle himself from Hakuba, freeing the detective to climb out of the car.

"Thank you." He said, placing a hand on the glass separating the front and back seats. Nakamori muttered in return, simultaneously waving the gratitude off and wishing him a good night. Hakuba nodded, climbing out of the car. "See you in the morning." He waved to Kuroba.

Kuroba made a half-hearted sound, wrapping his arms around himself as he fell back asleep. Hakuba smiled, shutting the door and making his way to the front steps. His fingers shook slightly from cold and fatigue as he opened the front door. He turned the hall light on and waved the waiting police car, which pulled away.

Exhausted, locked the door, peeled off his shoes and climbed up the stairs to his room, falling face first onto his bed. He just lay there for a moment, then wiggled out of his outer garments, letting them drop to the floor. Dressed only in his shirt, underpants and socks, he climbed under the duvet, wrapping it around himself and quickly fell to sleep.

Hopefully, it'd be a quiet day and he could sleep in.

At least school was out for the Winter holidays.

+++

He really should have known better than to hope for a calm day.

The discovery of the mutilated body had made the news, and a gory ripper story always caught the public's attention.

Unfortunately, someone had put 'discovered by the Task Force while chasing the Kaitou Kid' with himself and he found himself plagued by questions he had no answers to. Like: Whose body was it? How had they been killed? Why had they been killed? What was the corpse doing in a pine tree?

Even more unfortunately for Kuroba, one of their schoolmates lived down the street and had seen him being dropped off by the police car. Somehow this hit the media, rumours of his possible involvement started, and reporters started flocking to the Kuroba’s door, trying to get a statement.

This earned the ire of Aoko, who obviously got caught trying to check on her childhood friend. She jumped to Kuroba's defense, hotly announcing that of course he'd been dropped off by her father since Kuroba was the one to discover the body.

Hakuba had some sympathy for him for that. It wasn't Kuroba's first dead body, his father was deceased, and the Kaitou Kid had been involved in several cases involving dead bodies, but it was the first one in such a condition. And a corpse to falling out of a tree and landing at his feet was enough to startle anyone.

It was almost comical, how the reporters’ suspicion instantly turned to sympathy.

Although, he was somewhat surprised. Kuroba was usually the consummate showman, never passing up the opportunity to grand stand. Yet this time he wasn’t, he was staying abnormally tight-lipped, not even appearing at the windows.

Hakuba pulled out his phone and texted Kuroba. _‘No catering to the audience?’_

He got a tense response back.

‘ _I don’t find murder amusing._ ’

He had a point. Hakuba quickly texted him back.

‘ _Touché._ ’

+++

Eventually his e-mail dinged, signalling new e-mail on the secured account. He checked it, discovering that Nakamori had forwarded the coroner's report to him.

Victim was estimated to be 40-50 years old, the only identifying marker being a tattoo gracing her side, hidden by how the arms had been tied. The cause of death was severe desanguination, or blood loss, the hands and feet having been removed while the woman was alive. There were signs of bruising where the victim had been tied, most likely by her elbows, not the wrists.

The bones and internal organs had been removed from the body, the flesh cleaned of blood, then the chest cavity then filled with potatoes, bread rolls, onions, and spices before being sewn shut and the limbs tied to it. Time of death was unknown, the cold air delaying the onset of rigor mortis, which would have also been affected by the lack of bones and internal organs.

Someone had prepared stuffed human, minus a pastry crust. And then left it in a pine tree in the middle of winter, in a park.

He set his revulsion aside for a moment and tried to think it out rationally. Whoever had done it had more than a passing familiarity with taking a body apart. According to the report, there was little in the way of mistakes in severing the muscle from the bone, it was a neat experienced job. A butcher, medic, or hunter then.

Removing the head, hands and feet almost made sense in more ways than one. Not only did it disguise the identity, but it would most likely require boiling to remove the bones from those areas, especially the head.

So who, and why?

It obviously wasn't Kuroba. Setting aside the unlikeliness of such a prospect, he wouldn't have had the time to do such a thing. But without knowing who the victim was, it left them at a dead end.

He looked at the tattoo, of a decorative lion fish swimming up along the ribs, ending just under the curve of one breast. It appeared to be either Yakuza style tattoo, or a foreigner who liked Asian tattoos. Sometimes it could be hard to tell. If it was Yakuza, it was old-school Yakuza, they tended not to go for the tattoos and the chopping off of pinkies anymore, as they were too obvious.

Penalty fines worked so much better in today's economy.

His mobile chirped, informing him he had a text. He grabbed it, surprised to see how late it had gotten while he was reading and pondering, he’d completely ignored dinner time. Dismissing the growl of his stomach at that thought, he unlocked the screen to read the message.

 _'Have you seen the news?'_

It was from Kuroba. Eyebrows shooting to the top of his head, he pressed a few buttons on his phone to call Kuroba back. He walked downstairs to where the television was as the phone rang in his ear.

"Moshi moshi." Kuroba's voice greeted him.

"What news?" Hakuba asked, grabbing the remote and turning the television on.

"Try channel four." Kuroba advised. "That's what we're watching now."

Hakuba obediently flipped through the channels until he got to channel four. An on the scene reporter was talking about a second discovery. Hakuba waited until they showed two blurred pixelated items resting at the base of a pine tree. "Are those-?"

"Human torsos." Kuroba deadpanned. "Minus head, arms and hips. And if the news cast is to be believed, the heart's been removed too. I can't tell if they're male or female with what they're showing."

“You’ve been at home all night, right?" Hakuba said sharply.

"I’ve been at Aoko’s since lunch." He didn't have to see Kuroba rolling his eyes to hear it in his tone. "Nakamori-keibu even joined us for about an hour and a half for dinner before leaving again. Thankfully we'd already eaten before this hit the news."

Hakuba let out a sigh of relief. "At least you have a good alibi this time." He muttered. One less headache, he didn't have to worry about proving Kuroba's innocence for this crime.

"Ne, Hakuba." Kuroba hesitantly drawled. "You don't think they're related, do you?"

"I don't know." Hakuba said heavily, making plans to contact Division One to follow up on the previous night's murder. But two more butchered bodies in under 24 hours seemed a bit far-fetched for them not to be. "But I intend to find out."

+++


	3. The Third Day, 28 Dec

Third Day, 28 December

It took more begging that Hakuba was necessarily comfortable with, but he got the coroner’s report for the two severed torsos.

Ages were mid 20s to 30s, both men were smokers, or at least were frequently around people who smoked a lot. One of the livers had the start of of cirrhosis, or scarring brought on generally by heavy drinking.

Cause of death was once again desanguination, they had been carved alive. It was done with a butcher’s skill, the spine severed between TH12 and L1, the last vertebrae connected to the ribs, and the first lumbar. The arms had been removed at the balljoint of the shoulder, leaving the chests intact.

Aside from the messy hole where they had cut through the ribs with what looked like a branch cutter. They hadn’t bothered cutting cutting through the softer cartilage where the ribs connected in the front, merely made a slice across the chest tissue and started making rough cuts with the cutter before removing the heart with a knife.

It was strangely savage, considering the skill used on the rest of the body.

Once again, the last thing removed was the head, the neck removed between C4 and C5, leaving behind just a stump.

Someone intended for these people to die in a lot of pain. Time had been taken for the majority of the cuts to be neat, precise. This was personal.

Hakuba tapped the edge of the papers against the table. The removal of the heart implied something emotional, possibly romantic. A loved one? Family, sibling, girlfriend, wife?

Another question, where were the rest of the bodies? There had to be a place the killer was doing his butchering, this wasn’t some random hack and slash in a back alley, there was an element of time and patience to the kills.

One of the bodies was tattooed as well, at least partially. A small black curve on the bottom of the back, on the right hand side. A second small curve where the arm had been removed.

Once again, possible Yakuza, possible not. They’d have to see more to be able to tell.

Suspect was most likely male, due to the sheer physical strength required. Possibly a second person to lure the victims away, possibly not. Right handed, if Hakuba was reading the marks left by the cutter correctly.

A hit? A warning perhaps, to leave the bodies a public area? In which case, to who?

He stared at the ceiling for a little while, then sent his observations, as limited as they were, back to Megure. The Inspector thanked him for his consideration with some obvious disappointment that he had not solved it already. Hakuba was not Kudo, he could not pull miracle deductions out of the air, it took effort and luck.

His phone beeped, a new text. It was from Kuroba.

‘ _Same guy?_ ’

Of course, Kuroba was following everything. It wasn’t in his nature to let something go, especially when it involved corpses.

Hakuba sighed, weighing various pros and cons before texting back. ‘ _Can you meet me somewhere?_ ’

If Kuroba didn’t have various ways of sneaking out of his house past the reporters, Hakuba would eat his deerstalker with horseradish.

After a few tense minutes of waiting, his phone beeped again. The message from Kuroba merely displaying an address and a time.

He sent back a confirmation and went to grab a light windbreaker instead of one of his trademark long coats. Shoving a knit hat over his blond hair, he quickly left the house. The address was nearby, it wasn’t worth trying to catch a ride.

The address was actually a closed down store, but there was a vending machine in front of it. Upon closer investigation, it sold hot cocoa, Lemon CC, and coffee.

It was also the same hot chocolate Kuroba had supposedly been at the park to get a few nights ago, when the body landed at his feet. Hakuba recognised the brand, he still had the can sitting on his desk. Amused, he entered a few coins for it. Might has well have something hot to drink while he waited.

“You really should give the cocoa a try.” A arm reached past him, pressing a few buttons. Hakuba glanced over. Kuroba had his hair slicked back away from his face, making him look older and slightly dangerous. The leather bomber jacket also lent itself to this image.

“Thanks.” Hakuba nodded, retrieving the cocoa. It wasn't something he normally drank a lot of, but he was willing to give it a try. “You still being stalked by reporters?” He asked as he opened the hot can.

“I give it two more days.” Kuroba shrugged, feeding the machine a few coins and pressing the button for coffee. He looked slightly jittery, like this wasn't his first cup of coffee. “Then someone more interesting will come along.”

Kuroba had done a good job keeping his face out of media, Hakuba had to give him credit for that. Although, since he was under 18, his name shouldn’t have been mentioned and they shouldn’t have known where he was at all.

And this was why he didn’t bring official paperwork to school. Too many chances of it disappearing and re-appearing in the media, with at least one of his classmates a little richer in pocket money.

“What’s up?” Kuroba asked, leaning against the vending machine. “Obviously something you didn’t want to say over the phone, so I’m guessing it’s important.”

“Phones can be tapped.” Hakuba agreed, leaning against the vending machine as well. Just two acquaintances, who happened to run into each other. Nothing to see here, move along.

Kuroba nodded in agreement, sipping his coffee as though it was much needed nectar of the gods, his eyes never stopping their paranoid sweep of the area.

“You are not actually a part of this investigation.” Hakuba said bluntly, not bothering to mince words. If anything, Kuroba was still a suspect, no matter how circumstantial the evidence was. “But I am willing to wager you are not going to let this go.”

He got a look from Kuroba as if to say ‘ _did you SEE the body that fell out of the tree and nearly beaned me in the head?!_ ’. “I don’t see you stopping me.” Kuroba muttered insolently, fingers tapping a quick beat against the coffee can.

A bit of a low blow, Hakuba had stopped the Kaitou Kid a time or two from escaping with the target of the hiest. He almost pointed out that while he wasn’t stopping Kuroba, the mass of reporters certainly was, but bit it back in time to continue speaking. “However.” Hakuba said relatively calmly, biting back his temper. “I’m willing to pass on what information I do get. If you are interested.”

“In exchange for what ever information I get?” Kuroba’s drawl was just shy of insolent, but there was a spark in in his eye that had been lacking since the last time Hakuba saw him.

“Possibly.” Hakuba granted.

He got an annoyed grunt. “I don’t need your protection, detective.” Kuroba informed him insolently.

“I know.” Hakuba agreed. In many ways, Kuroba was much more capable of watching out for himself than Hakuba was. “But I might need yours.”

Kuroba paused, giving him a sideways look. Chances were that Kuroba’s not-so legal connections were going to be more useful in uncovering what was going on then Hakuba’s police contacts. And it never hurt to have a second set of eyes watching one’s back.

“Since I doubt that you’re just going to walk away, it makes sense to team up and share information.” Hakuba shrugged. “Especially since I know that there’s no way for the Kaitou Kid to be involved, so there’s no reason for me to look for him.”

Someone who killed in such a fashion took a much higher precedence over the Kaitou Kid’s antics anyway. And if Kuroba was busy with this, he wasn’t sending out heist warning notes.

Kuroba didn’t quite relax, but he did look thoughtful. “Alright.” Kuroba agreed after a moment, offering his hand. “Deal.”

Hakuba shook his hand, noting Kuroba’s grip was firm without being crushing. “Excellent. Now if you could pick my back pocket before we part ways...”

“Already done.” Kuroba informed him smugly, a low fox-like curl of his lips. Hakuba hadn’t even felt him do it. “The coroner’s report? You’re getting bold.”

“Don’t lose it, and don’t let anyone else see it.” Hakuba informed him bluntly, sliding his hand away from Kuroba’s, then bumping their knuckles together. “Talk to you later.”

“Laters.” Kuroba said insolently, leaning back against the vending machine and giving the air of someone who wasn’t intending to move for a while.

Hakuba threw his partially drunk cocoa into the recycling bin and wandered away. It was a bit too sweet for his taste, but rich enough in flavour that he could see why Kuroba liked it. He took the long way home, just in case he was being followed. He jumped over the back fence to get into the house, startling Baaya.

“Practise.” He said, disarming her before she could wind up into a lecture on proper modes to enter the house. He scurried up to his room, keeping the news feeds going in the background of his computer, constantly checking for new information.

When nothing happened by 10, he started getting ready for bed, deciding he was going to get at least one night of relatively good rest during the Holiday Break.

Which is when it hit the police bands. Three lumps of flesh had been placed as an offering in front of a local temple. The head monk had thought it strange, but had been thinking about turning it into dinner when a friend stopped by for a visit, putting an end to that.

The friend was a doctor and didn’t recognise the meat as any local animal.

The Medical Examiner recognised it. 3 left buttocks. Human.

There were, Hakuba noted as he texted Kuroba the information, worse parts of long pig to eat.

+++


	4. The Fourth Day, 29 Dec

The Fourth Day, 29 December

“You’re a sick, sick human being.” Kuroba informed him as Hakuba opened the front door of his house the next morning.

“According to interviewed cannibals, the buttocks contains the most tender meat to be found on the human body, due to the amount of fat stored there.” Hakuba said sweetly, gesturing him inside. Kuroba gave him a disturbed expression, shifting as far away from Hakuba as possible while still making his way inside. “-Of course, I have not physically verified this myself.”

“I stand by my previous statement.” Kuroba growled, pulling his feet out of his shoes. “And ew.”

“I shall keep that in mind.” Hakuba said, making a mental note to eat something barbecued around Kuroba at the nearest opportunity. He might be able to turn the magician into a vegetarian.

Of course, if they did not catch the killer soon, he might turn vegetarian as well. He motioned Kuroba to follow him upstairs, to his room. Kuroba’s feet were annoyingly quiet, like Hakuba was being followed by a ghost.

“Anything on the butts?” Kuroba asked, glancing around Hakuba’s room.

“Not yet.” Hakuba grimaced, taking a seat at his desk. “The officers are all Beika local, I do not know them as well as I do the local officers.” The local ones mostly being part of the group chasing the Kaitou Kid.

“In other words, they’re not nearly as helpful in an investigation.” Kuroba translated, plopping down on Hakuba’s bed and bouncing a few times.

“They do not tend to be nearly as forth coming unless I pull a miracle out of my hat, correct.” Hakuba said dryly, picking up the first coroner’s report and passing it to Kuroba. Kuroba pulled the report on the severed torsos out of somewhere and handed it back before flipping through the on the woman.

Hakuba poked at various news feeds as Kuroba read through the report, trying to gather more information on the current mystery. There weren’t any photos of the buttocks themselves, so Hakuba couldn't tell if they were done with the same precision or not, but he had a hunch it was the same person.

No reports of anyone strange in the area, and there was enough traffic that going to the area itself would be useless.

It was the worst part of chasing a serial killer who was actually good, waiting for the murderer to slip up.

Kuroba flipped through the papers, making a thoughtful sound and Hakuba glanced up. “Something?”

“This tattoo.” He held up the copy of the photo. “It’s poisonous, isn’t it?”

“ _Pterois Lunulata_ , otherwise known as the Japanese or Luna Lionfish.” Hakuba agreed, doing a quick search on lionfish and passing his laptop over to Kuroba to look. “Beautiful and deadly. One of the most poisonous fish in the sea, although safer to eat than fugu, as only the dorsal fins carry the venom. Only occasionally fatal to humans however. Also known as an invasive species in the United States, where they’re trying to encourage people to eat it as sushi to decrease the population.”

“I’ll trust you.” Kuroba said, hastily handing the laptop back, looking slightly panicked.

Hakuba raised an eyebrow, but took the laptop back. Interesting. “Does the tattoo mean something to you?”

“Maybe.” Kuroba closed his eyes looking thoughtful. “So it’s a predator?”

“Very much so.” Hakuba agreed.

Kuroba nodded, but didn’t pursue that train of thought further. “Were you able to make anything out on the other tattoos?”

“Not without finding the attaching limbs.” Hakuba sighed in disappointment. Old-style Yakuza tattoos tended to start at the upper arms and hips, then work towards the spine and out to the ends of the limbs.

If the back and chest was still bare, but a tattoo at the arm, chances were the person was still fairly new to the organisation. Lower level or flunky.

Women, on the other hand, didn’t tend towards tattoos in general. Or if they did, just one or two decorative ones. Although a lion fish was an unusual choice in general.

Kuroba made a meditative sound, then shrugged. “Yeah. I got nothing.”

Hakuba bit back the sarcastic comment on his lips, exchanging it for a heavy sign instead. “There is not actually much to go on.” He agreed. “No one saw anything, there are too many footprints to track who it may have been at all the scenes, there are no stray fingerprints or fibres on the cleaned corpses. We only have the bodies themselves, and they are not giving away their secrets.”

“Secretive in life, secretive in death?” Kuroba mused, giving him a piercing look. “There something you’re not telling me?”

Hakuba hesitated. “I am not sure.” He admitted. “Merely a hunch, I suppose you could call it.”

He would have been happier if the buttocks had contained skin, to see if they were tattooed.

Kuroba stared at him for a long minute more before shrugging. “Huh.”

“Apologies that I do not have more.” Hakuba said, spreading his hands wide. “I am still hoping to get the coroner’s report on the last night to compare the skill level.”

“Nah, s’fine.” Kuroba waved it off, bouncing to his feet. “Let me see what I can find on my end.”

“Are the reporters still camped outside your house?” Hakuba inquired as Kuroba stretched his arms above his head, shirt rising enough to flash the curve of his hip.

“Nah.” Kuroba waved it off. “Sewer line backed up. Whole street stinks, most of them left this morning. The city’s working on it.”

Kuroba’s face was perfectly blank, but there was just air of mischief to him that had Hakuba doubting it was an accident. It would not due to say anything in that regard, lest he find himself in a similar predicament.

“I see.” Hakuba said neutrally as he rose to his feet to escort Kuroba out. “How unfortunate for them.”

Kuroba smirked slightly. “Quite.”

Baaya was busy in the kitchen as they made their way downstairs, Kuroba silently slipping his shoes on. “Stay safe.” Hakuba whispered as Kuroba opened the door, slipping out.

He got a cocky grin and a wink in return, as if it was impossible for Kuroba to do otherwise.

Baaya stuck her head into the hall as the door shut. “Was there someone there?” She asked.

“No.” Hakuba waved her off. “Just the wind.”

+++

The shrine was too crowded for him to get close to, but the area reminded him of the other two locations. Plenty of foot traffic, various routes in and out of the area, no way to track which way they had come, or where they had gone.

The place was merely the dump site, not where the people had been taken or dismembered. That was the information he really wanted.

There were also quite a few policemen wandering around, mostly making sure that no one was acting up, or in case the culprit came back.

Some serial killers ‘played’ with the law enforcement, sending notes and messages. And while the corpses did seem to be a message, he doubted it was for the police. It was for someone else. And with as much of a sensation as they were causing, there was probably no need to come back and see people’s reactions.

Of course, Hakuba had been wrong on motivation before, and would probably be so again. But he didn’t see anyone that set off his radar.

However, he did discover that the wood plank the buttocks had been placed on was pine. Same wood as the first body was found on. Possibly significant, possibly not.

He texted it to Kuroba anyway.

+++

Hakuba wasn’t expecting any news until close to midnight, but it was barely after dinner when the news hit.

Four severed feet, found next to a pond in a park.

All right feet, minus shoes.


	5. The Fifth Day, 30 Dec

The Fifth Day, 30 December

“This is not Canada.” Kuroba’s voice protested over the phone.

“It’s a good thing too.” Hakuba deadpanned. “Moose bites are nasty.”

There was a strange silence over the phone. “Is that one of your strange British sense of humour type things?” Kuroba finally ventured.

“Possibly.” Hakuba agreed, quietly grateful that Kuroba had no knowledge of Monty Python. “And I take it you are referring to the human foot discoveries at the Salish Sea in British Columbia?”

“Yeah, they just found a twelfth foot in November.” Kuroba agreed, his voice changing as he shifted the phone. “But the first four were all right feet. They’ve got a couple of matching sets now.”

So Kuroba wasn’t just reading newspapers in class for show, he was actually studying them. Interesting.

“But all of those separated naturally in the water due to a long period of submersion.” Hakuba pointed out. “These were purposely cut.”

“You got the report?” Kuroba’s voice sounded almost eager.

“You may say that.” Hakuba agreed. “Do you wish to meet?”

The front doorbell rang. “Oh. Just a moment.” Hakuba covered the receiver with his finger, stepping out into the hallway as Baaya answered the front door.

“Botchama, it’s for you.” Baaya called up to him. Hakuba glanced at the phone, then quickly trotted down the stairs. Kuroba was standing in the entry way, holding up and wiggling his mobile phone by way of greeting.

“I should be surprised.” Hakuba deadpanned, ending the call. “But somehow, I’m not. It’s alright Baaya, this is a friend of mine. Kuroba Kaito.”

“Oh, good.” Baaya smiled at him and with a pang he realised it was the first time he’d had anyone over as a ‘friend’ as opposed to a ‘client’ since arriving in Japan. Whoops. “You boys have fun now, I’m going to make some snacks.” She patted him on the shoulder as she practically skipped to the kitchen.

Kuroba watched her go, one eyebrow arching in surprise. There were smudges under his eyes that weren’t completely contained by concealer, someone hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

“Just remember, this is your fault for ringing the doorbell.” Hakuba informed him, motioning for Kuroba to come inside. “And you’re staying for lunch.”

“But-”

“Trust me.” Hakuba rubbed his forehead. “You are staying for lunch. It’s insult to the hospitality of her ancestors if you do not. Do you have any food allergies?”

“Oooh. One of those.” Kuroba nodded wisely and Hakuba wondered how many people had tried to fatten the other boy up. “And um. Fish?”

“Alright.” Hakuba waved him upstairs. “You know where my room is, I’ll be right there. Need to head Baaya off at the pass or we won’t be able to get any work done.”

“Gotcha.” Kuroba had the look of a wary cat, just waiting for a loud noise to make him jump. Hakuba watched him head towards the stairs as he went into the kitchen. Baaya was pulling out various pots and pans, humming to herself.

“Kuroba’s the one who found the first body.” He said quietly, walking over to the cupboard that held the tea. “It narrowly avoided beaning him in the head.”

“Isn’t he the one you suspect of being the Kaitou Kid?” She commented back with some amusement.

“Yes.” He agreed, finding the tea he wanted. “Which is why he is aiding me in the investigation. It is better than having the Kaitou Kid running around half-cocked.” Or constantly tripping over each other, working at cross purposes to reach the same goal.

“Botchama is growing wise.” Baaya smiled and he had the feeling she was mocking him.

He set the tea down on the counter. "He says he's allergic to fish, but I think vegetarian dishes may be a safer route irregardless." It wasn't Kuroba, the Kaitou Kid's, first body, but he was pretty sure it was Kuroba's first violent serial killer. It was one thing to deal with a death and solve in a day, and another to be in it for the long haul. "Please use this tea."

She glanced over, noting that it was the decaffeinated Earl Grey tea with a twitch of an eyebrow. He merely smiled in response. "Thank you, Baaya."

"Here." She handed him a tray full of crackers and biscuits. "Make yourself useful. I'll bring the tea up in a few moments."

He inclined a head and headed upstairs, navigating the stairs with his hands full from long practice. Kuroba was sitting cross-legged on the bed, flipping through the latest report. "None of them are ladies' feet." Kuroba scowled.

"I estimate we are currently looking for between five to ten bodies." Hakuba said, setting the tray down on the bed. "Five if he is using parts from the same corpses. Ten if it is a fresh kill each time. It will take further DNA testing to see if they are all the same bodies."

Kuroba wrinkled his nose, setting the papers down with a disgusted look on his face. "Tea will be up momentarily." Hakuba said apologetically, hitting print on his computer. The printer under the desk began to whirr to life. "On the other hand, I do have some potentially good news. The DNA results came back on the first victim and she was in the database. Mino Kasago."

"... Her name is 'Luna Lionfish'." Kuroba deadpanned. The same as her tattoo.

"It appears so." Hakuba reached down and grabbed the print outs. "Rumour is that she was the Madame in charge of an illegal brothel, specialising in foreign girls."

"Human trafficking and forced prostitution, you mean." Kuroba gave him what probably was supposed to be an annoyed glare, if he hadn't looked so worn out. "I told you, you don't have to try to protect-"

"Have you not considered it is merely the way I talk?" Hakuba asked archily, cutting him off.

They stared at each other for a long minute, then Kuroba nodded, slumping slightly.

"I can be as vulgar as the next _fucking_ person." Hakuba said quietly, glancing away. "I merely choose not to." Everyone had their own way of dealing with the aftermath of human cruelty and greed. Hakuba did so with his shield of antiquated manners.

Kuroba gaped at him for a moment, then started laughing.

Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may have been, this was when Baaya walked in. "It's nice to see you getting along." She beamed at both of them, setting the tea tray on Hakuba's desk.

Kuroba hiccupped, but thankfully didn't say a word, merely continued giggling.

"Thank you, Baaya." Hakuba inclined his head.

She took the hint, wiping her hands on her apron. "Lunch will be ready in about an hour." She informed them before walking off with a pleased smile on her face.

"It was worth coming over just to hear you swear." Kuroba informed him cheerfully, still chortling quietly.

"Do not mention it to Baaya." Hakuba poured two cups of tea. "She will wash my mouth out with soap, irregardless of my size and age. How do you like your Earl Grey? I prefer mine with a splash of milk. Baaya brought sugar as well."

"Milk and sugar is good." Kuroba grinned, his laughter winding down.

Hakuba poured more than his usual amount of milk into both cups, then offered them to Kuroba to choose which one he wanted. Kuroba glanced between them like a wary cat before choosing one. Hakuba passed him the sugar with some mild amusement, watching Kuroba put two heaping teaspoons of sugar into his tea. It was amazing he was not a diabetic if that was how he usually took his tea. "Thanks. Could use the caffeine."

"You are welcome." Hakuba said, taking a cautious sip of the hot liquid. Kuroba took a quick sip, then grimaced, obviously burning his mouth and set it aside for a moment.

"So back to the subject." Kuroba said, looking serious again. "I'm going to hypothesis that the people who we're finding in pieces aren't very nice people."

"I have been wondering if we were not dealing with Yakuza." Hakuba admitted, pulling up a map of the area on his computer screen. There were little pin graphics at each of the drop sites. He passed the laptop over to Kuroba. "All of the bodies were found within walking distance of each other, but the territory is not affiliated with any known criminal groups to the best of police knowledge."

Kuroba scowled as he looked at the map, tapping a finger against the side of the laptop thoughtfully. "That's because it's neutral territory."

Hakuba raised an eyebrow. Kuroba smirked back. "Rumour is that the temple is where the ashes of the leaders of two rival groups are. The groups were rivals, but the leaders were childhood friends, so the area is neutral so that both groups can come and pay their respects without bloodshed. Dunno how accurate it is."

"So someone violated that." Hakuba mused.

Kuroba shrugged in response, blowing across his tea to cool it before taking a sip. "Was that your hunch?" Kuroba inquired. "That it was gang related?"

Hakuba nodded. "The tattoos."

"Ah." Kuroba looked contemplative. "You thinking that someone's trying to set up a war?"

"Or at the very least, is targeting one of the Yakuza families." Hakuba agreed, taking his laptop back. "I do not believe these people are being targeted at random."

Kuroba tilted his head to the side, bird-like. "You think the victims are connected?"

Hakuba spread his hands wide. "Merely a hypothesis. The first three bodies say this is personal, this is not someone who is doing this out of enjoyment, but emotion. One body the first day, two bodies the second... It seems to me that this is not just escalation but message."

"Beware, I'm coming to get you." Kuroba mused, drinking some more tea. He hid a yawn, but the pull of his neck muscles gave it away. "But why those parts?"

"I do not know." Hakuba admitted.

Kuroba chuckled quietly, falling backwards on the bed without spilling a drop. "Isn't that a Christmas song? On the first day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me~" He warbled. "Fiiiiive goOOOOoooold Rings! Four calling birds-"

" _Colly_." Hakuba corrected. "Colly birds are black birds."

Kuroba rolled his eyes. "Four **colly** birds-" He continued. "-Three french hens, two turtle doves and a Paaaartridge in a Pear TreEEEe~."

He did have a decent singing voice, Hakuba noted with amusement. "While the first death I can see some correlation between a 'bird in a tree', I cannot see how two severed hearts, three left buttocks and four right feet have anything to do with two turtle doves, three french hens and four black birds."

"Still, it was worth a shot." Kuroba shrugged. "What kind of true love would give their lover body parts anyway? Ew."

Hakuba paused, something about the question lighting things up in his head. "... One whose lover is dead?" He sounded out.

Kuroba turned his head to stare at him. "Revenge?"

"The targets would be tend to be specific rather than random if this were the case." Hakuba mused. "But say this theory is true... Which group are they targeting?"

"Who does Ms. Lionfish belong to?" Kuroba asked, sitting up to drain the last bit of tea from his cup and setting it down on Hakuba's nightstand. "She's got to be connected."

Hakuba flipped through the records, not remembering any listings for specific group connections. "I think she was a freelancer. It will take some digging, give me a moment to look. Would you like some more tea?"

"Only if you are." Kuroba said. Hakuba finished his tea, pouring them each a fresh cup, adding milk to both and passing Kuroba both his cup and the sugar again. "Thanks."

"Not a problem." Hakuba waved it off. "I will clean two or three pots off in an afternoon while working."

"The caffeine helps." Kuroba agreed, smothering another yawn. Hakuba merely smiled to himself, sipping his steaming tea as he flipped through the information. Kuroba drained his glass, then rolled over so he was sprawled on his belly on the bed, head propped up to stare at Hakuba.

"Anything I can help on?" Kuroba asked. "While we're waiting for lunch? Your Baaya seems like she'd be scary when crossed, by the way."

"She is." Hakuba agreed. He'd lived in mutual fear and adoration of her for years. "And possibly." He printed off a few map pages and passed them to Kuroba. "I think the suspect must have a base hidden somewhere near by where he drops them off. Somewhere he can walk from and carry the body parts without him gathering attention. You know the area better than I do."

Kuroba had grown up in Ekoda, while Hakuba was still fairly new to the area after a couple of years. "On it." Kuroba agreed, taking the maps and flipping through them with single minded intensity.

Hakuba kept a loose eye on him as he dug through files. Kuroba drooped, head dropping a few times before he shook it off. His eyes kept sliding shut, his body shutting down for milliseconds at a time to get just a moments rest.

He'd been resting for at least fifteen minutes by the time Baaya open the door, glancing in on them before announcing herself. Unfortunately, the slight shift was enough to wake the ever twitchy Kuroba, the magician jolting awake and glancing around as if anticipating an attack.

"Lunch?" Hakuba inquired, setting the laptop aside, pretending not to see Kuroba wipe some drool away from the side of his mouth.

"Is waiting for you when you're ready." Baaya said sweetly before leaving.

"Sorry." Kuroba muttered as he climbed off the bed.

"For what?" Hakuba asked, stretching as he rose from the desk chair. "Apologies, I was a bit preoccupied."

"Nothing." Kuroba waved it off, following Hakuba as he headed downstairs.

"We're being a bit informal today, dear." Baaya informed Kuroba, catching them at the bottom of the stairs and leading them into the kitchen. She pointed to the bowls next to the pot on the stove. "It's udon with tofu, a few sprig onions and various mushrooms. Just the thing for a cold day. Help yourselves, there's enough for thirds."

"Thank you, Baaya." Hakuba said, with a small smile. "Guests first."

Kuroba glanced at the bowls for a moment before taking one, giving them a wary look out of the corner of his eye as he served himself the thick chewy noodles. He waited as Hakuba did the same, then pulled the chopsticks out of a drawer, offering Kuroba his pick. Baaya shooed them out into the dining room.

Hakuba got a raised eyebrow as they sat down. "Yes." Hakuba deadpanned. "She is usually like that."

He got a quiet snicker in response. Kuroba took a bite, then his eyes went wide in surprise. "This is good!" He muttered, mouth full of noodles.

Hakuba muffled a laugh. "As if she'd make anything less than that for a guest." He grinned.

They forewent conversation for eating, slurping up the thick noodles and the tasty clear broth. Baaya encouraged them to eat more, filling their bowls they got low, scolding that they'd never have the energy to chase criminals with as little as they ate. Kuroba glanced at her, then Hakuba as she walked away from emptying the pot.

"No wonder you're so tall if she feeds you like this all the time." Kuroba muttered, making Hakuba snort in amusement.

"Mum's taller than Otousan." Hakuba whispered back. Kuroba gaze flickered over him before nodding.

Baaya moved by the door to the dining room and Kuroba raised his voice. "I'm so stuffed, I couldn't eat another bite." He proclaimed loudly. "I'd _explode_."

Hakuba resisted the urge to offer him an after dinner mint, just to see if Kuroba really would explode. He took Kuroba's bowl, walking back to the kitchen, Kuroba making noises about returning home.

"You live near Nakamori-keibu, don't you dear?" Baaya said thoughtfully. "I've got some errands to run that will take me right by there. Why don't I give you a ride home? It's the least I can do, after Hakuba taking up so much of your time with this horrid goings on."

"I..." Kuroba quickly found himself strong armed out the door and into the car, looking like he wasn't quite sure what was happening. "I'll talk to you later!" Kuroba finally got out, waving at Hakuba.

"Try not to interrogate him too much." Hakuba called, waving back as Baaya drove away at a slow steady pace.

Hakuba walked back inside, chuckling quietly to himself as he did so. He idly cleaned up the last remains of lunch before heading upstairs to bring the tea set back down before resuming work.

Decaffeinated Earl Grey, warm milk, and a belly full of warm stew.

Hopefully Kuroba would be able to get a few hours of sleep.

+++

He took a small trip to the park where they had found the severed feet, each with their toes pointing at the cardinal points, as if someone had used a compass, or had a good sense of direction. The ground was wet and muddy with slush, the footsteps of hundreds of people tearing up the earth around the park. They might have been able to get a partial print from where the suspect knelt to place the feet, but it nearly impossible to track one set of prints among the mess.

Best place to hide a tree was in the middle of a forest.

He spent the rest of the evening and afternoon trying to piece together who might have connections to Ms. Lionfish, and going through the recently reported missing lists, mostly turning up with nothing. Ms. Lionfish's brothel was little more than a holding area for the girls to be temporarily held before being transported elsewhere.

The joy of being the only first world country where slavery was not illegal.

He left the news on in the background again, waiting until nearly midnight before the information hit the police band.

Five severed legs, minus feet, hanging from a tree branch like giant morbid flesh coloured icicles.

+++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious about the washed up feet in Canada, I did not make that up:  
> <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salish_Sea_human_foot_discoveries>


	6. The Sixth Day, 31 Dec

The Sixth Day, 31 December

"Well." Hakuba greeted Kuroba over the phone. "Do five nooses count as 'gold rings'?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"No." Kuroba finally growled.

"Yeah." Hakuba sighed. "In the original song, the 'gold rings' are actually the band around a pheasant's neck anyway. Days one through seven are birds."

That earned him an annoyed sound. "And this is helpful-?"

"It is not." Hakuba shrugged, noting Kuroba's shortened temper. He glanced at a calendar. Five nights, including the night they found the first body, but Kuroba probably had not gotten much sleep the nights leading up to the heist, setting everything up and preparing for the theft.

So about a week. Kuroba was probably getting ready to drop.

"Can you stop by?" He asked.

"Not right now." Kuroba sounded slightly regretful. "But the line is secure as I can make it."

Which was probably more secure than if he was on a police line. Although he would have liked to have seen if he could get Kuroba to take a nap, but he could only push so far.

"Then what may be helpful is that I believe that we may have one of the torso's legs." Hakuba informed him, injecting false cheer into his voice. "One of the legs has a large black centipede wrapped around it. If I am picturing it correctly, the head would be up against the small of the back, which was cut off of our two torsos."

"Centipede?" Kuroba sounded confused.

"Even more interesting, it is the same one an unaffiliated gang member has, Kade Oomu." Hakuba glanced down at his print out, which showed a narrow faced man, a second centipede wrapped around his arm, the pinchered head resting on the curve of the shoulder. "Officers checked his last known residence, no one has seen him in almost a week. He stepped out for cigarettes and never returned."

"Kade Oomu." Kuroba repeated, then there was the dull sound of something, much like a head, hitting a wall. "Oomu Kade. Oomukade. Centipede."

" _Scolopendra subspinipes_ , to be precise." Hakuba agreed. "List of known associates shows a connection with..."

"-Mino Kasago." Kuroba filled in. "Our Ms. Lionfish. The deaths are connected."

"Looks like." Hakuba shifted the phone on his ear. "Only neither are really affiliated with any known group or gang, there are no known rivalries or enemies. Still working on the identities of the others, DNA should tell us if any of the other legs match the second torso. Also, two of the feet fit, but not Centipede's."

"Are all the legs the same?" Kuroba asked. "All right, like the feet?"

Hakuba didn't need to check the papers. The police were starting to get frantic as more body parts appeared, it hadn't taken much coaxing to get the coroner's report this time. "No, it is a mix time. 3 left, 2 right. They are currently checking to see if the left ones were severed from the buttocks."

"... Huh." The noise was totally neutral. "It's almost like a meat puzzle."

"Essentially, yes." Hakuba agreed. "I do not know if you noticed when you flipped through the reports, but the body temperature of the feet were abnormally cold, and so were the legs. Some of the blood started oozing once they were warmed up."

"The bodies are being frozen." Kuroba caught on. "That'd have to be a pretty big freezer, even with them in pieces."

"Or multiple freezers, which would also take up quite a bit of space."

"Right." Sounded thoughtful. "I've got some stuff to look into, I'll talk to you later."

"Do not allow yourself to be caught or damaged." Hakuba said firmly. "If you do run into trouble, do **not** hesitate to contact me. Remember that you are not alone in this investigation."

Whomever was committing these killings was grabbing dangerous people and turning them into so much butchered meat. And while the Kaitou Kid was a tricky adversary, there were times when even his luck could run out, especially if he was running on fumes.

The Task Force called it 'Almost Got Him'.

Silence filled the line and he wondered if he had angered Kuroba. It stretched, and just as Hakuba was debating apologising, Kuroba spoke.

"... You too."

And then the line went dead in Hakuba's ear.

+++

He debated sending a report back to the medical examiner, then decided that he’d had enough of the house and went for a visit.

Moorii-sensei was a young woman, a bit flighting seeming, but that merely came from being more comfortable with corpses than people. Hakuba could relate on some levels, and dropping off his observations turned into standing around brainstorming.

Mostly, that if they could determine the instruments used to remove the body parts, they could check the records to see if these had been used in previous cases to narrow down the suspect pool. Often times killers had a preference for one weapon over another, or even having a favourite that they tended to use more.

Moorii-sensei got a pig carcass from... somewhere, and a vast array of bladed objects suddenly appeared as she explained to the ballistics expert what they were trying to do.

Somehow, this turned into the three of them taking turns hacking at pig carcass. Moorii-sensei examined the marks and declared Hakuba’s a closest match as far as the angle of the swings. Seeing as she was barely five foot, the ballistics expert a scant few inches taller, Hakuba at his six-foot height towered over them, this meant they were definitely looking for someone around his height.

So in the name of **Science** , covered from head to toe in plastic, he attacked the body of the pig with various cutting implements, the three of them pausing to examine the marks, occasionally re-trying an instrument or two.

The results narrowed it down to a heavy duty cleaver and boning knife, the kind that butchers used.

And once they were done with the knives, the rotary saws came out.

+++

It was turning evening by the time Hakuba headed home, pressed in on all sides by fellow commuters. He was feeling pretty good with his progress, at least until he got a text message from Kuroba.

‘ _Edoka Train Station. NOW._ ’

Glancing around, he checked the map as the train slowed to a crawl then began to unload and load passengers. He quickly tapped out a reply while trying to retain his footing, the doors closing and the train moving again. ‘ _Currently on the train. ETA 3 minutes.’_

He hoped that it was sufficient time.

Less polite than he preferred, he moved his way to the doors, angling so he’d be first out as soon as they stopped. He counted the seconds in his head, silently willing the punctual train slightly early.

It didn’t happen.

As soon as the train stopped and the doors opened, Hakuba leaped out, moving as quickly through the station as he could without running or attracting too much attention.

He didn’t need to worry, there was a crowd standing outside of the front gate.

Six heads were resting on a wood plank on top of the sign welcoming them to Ekoda.

Hakuba pulled out his camera and immediately snapped pictures. “Has someone called the police?” He bellowed, trying to get control of the crowd. He spotted a group of middle school looking girls, several of whom looked extremely sick. “You!” He pointed at them and motioned for them to go. “Get the police. NOW.”

That set them scurrying away, a few other people leaving with them. “Did anyone see anything? Who was the first person to notice?” Hakuba shouted, looking around. A meek elderly couple held up their hands. “Thank you. Please stay there. Anyone else about the same time?”

A few other people were pointed out. “Please stay here as well. Everyone else, please move at least 3 metres away from the sign, we need to preserve as much evidence as possible.” Hakuba instructed, getting people to move away.

Fortunately, the koban officers showed up at that point, closing off the area and getting people moving. Hakuba gave it less than 20 minutes before the news vans arrived.

A flash of movement caught his eye and he saw Kuroba slide to a stop in the background, obviously having run for a while. Hakuba tried to catch his eye, but Kuroba’s gaze was firmly on the heads above Hakuba, his face going suddenly white.

Hakuba quickly excused himself, moving through the crowd to Kuroba’s side. “Are you alright?”

Kuroba didn’t make a sound other than the harsh gasps for air. Hakuba glanced back at the heads, noting a police officer covering them up with a tarp, hiding the severed heads from view. Kuroba finally made a strangled sound, like his throat couldn’t figure out what sound to make.

“Come on.” Hakuba wrapped an arm around Kuroba’s shoulders and pulled him away. Kuroba followed him, glancing around him as if surprised at his surroundings. Hakuba escorted Kuroba around the corner, leaning him up against the wall. “Breathe.” He advised.

Kuroba nodded and did so, closing his eyes as he focused on his breathing, making it slow down, approaching normal pace. Some colour returned to his face, making him look less likely to suddenly pass out.

“What is going on?” Hakuba asked, fingers twitching with the urge to touch Kuroba, check his pulse and the temperature of the skin. He’d never seen Kuroba go into shock before. “Did you recognise one of the heads?”

Kuroba nodded and Hakuba felt his stomach sink. Hopefully not a friend. "Who?"

"The one with the handlebar moustache." Kuroba's face suddenly twisted, baring his teeth like a cornered animal, his body shaking in rage. Hakuba took a small half step back, staring at him in shock. Kuroba shook his head, the rage being pulled back and covered by a calmer, but obvious mask. "He killed Oyaji 10 years ago."

"What?!" Hakuba certainly knew of the very publicised demise of Kuroba's father, the World Famous Stage Magician Kuroba Toichi. Blown to bits in a stage performance gone wrong according to the reports he could find."Do you have any proof?!"

"If I did, do you think he wouldn't be behind bars by now?" Kuroba spat and Hakuba recoiled slightly. "I've done _everything_ I can and he..." Kuroba stopped, catching himself, turning away. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter now."

Because someone else had gotten to the killer first. Before the Kaitou Kid, before _Kuroba_ could bring him in to justice. Before he could get the answers he probably so desperately craved.

"I'm sorry." Hakuba murmured, knowing the words were insufficient, but unable to think of anything else to say. Kuroba snorted, but didn't say anything. Hakuba leaned against the wall next to him, the only point of contact being their shoulders just barely brushing against each other.

Never once did he think to question Kuroba’s word that the mysterious man had murdered Kuroba's father.


	7. The Seventh Day, 1 Jan

Day 7, 1 January

Hakuba woke up with a jolt, sensing someone staring at him. He opened his eyes a crack, feigning sleep as he glanced around.

He could see the outline of a man looming over him, one hand frozen in the act of reaching out to touch him.

Neither of them moved, Hakuba keeping his breathing steady as he realised who it was.

Kuroba.

Hakuba had insisted that Kuroba spend the night at his house, since going to a large empty home was the last thing the other teenager needed tonight. Too many shadows, not enough living people to banish them.

"Here." Hakuba moved his arm out from under the warm duvet, holding it out to Kuroba, who jumped like a startled cat at the motion. "Check my pulse."

"What?"

"Check my pulse." He repeated again, sleep making his tongue slow.

Kuroba jerked, twitching as if caught between two contradictory impulses. He slowly moved, creeping back towards the bed as if ready to run at the slightest provocation. His fingers were cold when they brushed the inside of Hakuba's wrist, moving around until they found Hakuba's pulse. Hakuba could see Kuroba's posture relax slightly as he counted heartbeats.

Hakuba smiled slightly, feeling the pull of sleep trying to drag him down and shook it off. "Still alive." He yawned.

What little he could see of Kuroba's expression was rueful. "Sorry for waking you." He murmured, pulling away.

"It was sort of expected." Hakuba waved it off. He moved over in the large bed, the press of the cold sheets waking him up further. He held the duvet up, motioning for Kuroba to join him. "Climb in."

"I... Uh..." Kuroba stammered, looking ready to bolt.

"Nothing hinky." Hakuba assured him with another yawn. "It helps to be near someone living for a little bit."

Kuroba glanced at the door, where the guest bedroom was down the hall, then slowly crept into the bed, cautiously pulling the duvet over him, trapping the warmth inside. Kuroba shifted around, getting comfortable without accidentally touching Hakuba. "How are you so calm?" Kuroba finally questioned.

"Experience." Hakuba said ruefully. "The first one is always the worst, but the horror never completely goes away. Shouldn't go away." He amended. He'd met jaded officers where corpses had stopped being people and were just another part of the scenery. It was like something in them had died.

"Otousan was a detective when I was little, before he rose through the ranks to become Commissioner. You could always tell what the bad cases were by how he acted when he got home. He'd stick extra close to Mum whenever women were involved, and there were nights when I'd wake up to find him watching me sleep when it was children." He shrugged. "Some of my first memories are of him reading police manuals out-loud to me in lieu of a bedtime story."

Kuroba chuckled. "Bet that got you to sleep quickly." He probably had the books memorised in order to better impersonate the police.

"Don't remember that part." Hakuba admitted, making Kuroba smile for a moment.

"So you've always been around this sort of stuff." Kuroba sounded out.

"I recognised the signs." Hakuba demurred. "You haven't had more than a few hours sleep in about a week, have you?"

Kuroba tensed up, like he was getting to flee. Hakuba could see the conscious effort to relax. ".... No." He finally admitted.

"You're losing weight as well." Hakuba pointed out. "No appetite?"

"... Not really." Kuroba slowly said.

Hakuba nodded. "Try eating vegetarian for a little while. It helps." Or at least it had for him. It was better than staring at a piece of meat and identifying where on the body it had come from. Muscle groups were muscle groups, no matter what animal it had come from.

"The udon." Kuroba's brows came down, giving Hakuba a suspicious look.

"The tea was decaffeinated as well." He admitted. "You looked like a nap would do you some good."

Kuroba had also been getting increasingly paranoid and jumpy. While Kuroba was _always_ paranoid, he was usually a bit more covert and suave about it. The lack of caution in his mania was not a good sign.

"She kept rambling on as she drove, these long boring stories." Kuroba muffled a yawn. "I did sleep for a few hours after I got home." He admitted, sounding slightly ashamed.

"Good." Hakuba couldn't help the pleased tone in his voice. "You can't be at your best if your body is trying to shut down from lack of food and sleep."

"And caffeine." Kuroba corrected.

"And caffeine." Hakuba agreed, although their definitions on what was ‘good’ caffeine differed.

Kuroba hummed thoughtfully, his body uncoiling into a near-sprawl. Kuroba reached over and poked Hakuba in the shoulder. "I thought I told you I didn't need your protection."

"Do you see me trying to keep anything from you on the crime scenes?" Hakuba pointed out. "Any details? Pictures? Told you to leave?"

Kuroba thought it over. "No."

"There you go." Hakuba yawned. "The thing about those who help and protect, not just police, but firefighters, rescue workers, medical, what have you, is that there comes a time when the question is if you go down saving this person, who will save the next? And there is _always_ a next."

It sometimes felt like trying to stop the ocean with a net. You could get some of it, but more would always get through, and it never stopped.

"The evils of the world don't stop just because you do." Kuroba murmured thoughtfully.

"It's a hard lesson." Hakuba sighed, feeling tired, more than just physical. "You can't save everyone. You can only do what you can."

Sometimes, it was enough. Knowing that he had avenged a death by catching the killer, or saved someone else from a tragic death.

Some days, it wasn't, and the deaths hung over his head like daggers waiting to fall, to get their pound of flesh.

"So why do you do it?" Kuroba asked, rolling slightly closer, snuggling into the blankets and pillows.

"I can't not." Hakuba shrugged. It went against his nature not to help people when he could. He couldn't just stand idly by when there was something he could do. "I'd like to think I'm reasonably good at it as well. Thefts anyway. Not so much with murders." He admitted. He didn't have quite the same knack for solving murders and violent crimes that Hattori and Edogawa did.

His greatest weakness was his inability to understand people. They confused him, always leaving him to try to understand people's motivations. Which was probably why he was drawn to detective work in general, trying to figure himself out by deducting the people around him.

Kuroba's breathing evened out and for a little while Hakuba thought he had fallen asleep. It was a little strange, sharing a bed, he was used to his space, but figured he could deal with it for one night. It was better than constantly being woken up throughout the night.

He was just on the cusp of unconsciousness when he heard Kuroba's sleepy voice. "... Is that why you chase the Kid?"

"Naw." Hakuba grinned to himself, a bubble of contentment swelling up inside.

He had been on the verge of burning out completely when he had first heard of the Kaitou Kid. It had been the first time in months he'd been excited about solving a crime. And then he'd come to Japan and met the Kaitou Kid in person and realised what a rare conundrum he had found.

Here were tricks, traps, and riddles, complex enough to challenge his brain. A thief fast enough to challenge his legs, and unless someone interfered, no one got seriously hurt. And more often than the police were comfortable admitting, he was uncovering mysteries that needed to be solved, helping in his own crazy way.

In Kuroba, he got a friendly nemesis who was amusing and agonising in turns, always keeping him on his toes. It was never boring, and rarely in a bad way.

And somehow, the excitement never left. He had no interest in actually sending the Kaitou Kid to jail, merely in catching him and winning the game for a change. Turn the tables.

Not that he'd ever tell Kuroba that.

"I chase the Kid because it's _fun._ "

+++

Baaya didn't seem to be surprised to discover that they had company over by the time he'd woken up and staggered downstairs, although Hakuba was slightly unsure over which bed she’d woken to find Kuroba in. He was actually slightly leery of how Kuroba would be this morning, if it would be awkward at all, considering the previous night's conversation.

“Happy New Year.” She greeted him with a smile. He supposed that Kuroba must have snuck back into the guest room at some point, or it would have been more of a leer.

“Happy New Year.” He greeted her with a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. “And good morning.”

“Breakfast is ready.” She motioned him towards the table, where Kuroba was sitting. He was staring at the stack of steaming pancakes in front of him with a confused expression, as if he was not sure what he was supposed to do with it. “Eat. Eat.” She waved at them both.

Hakuba smiled as he sat down across from Kuroba, grabbing the steaming pot of tea and pouring himself a cup, adding just a dash of milk. “Happy New Year.”

“Same to you.” Kuroba said, his body tilted sideways as he eyed the pancakes from that angle. The stack of pancakes were taller than his head was wide. “I’d actually forgotten what day it was.”

“I have missed quite a few holidays for similar reasons.” Hakuba admitted, relaxing slightly at the flow of conversation. “The rare holidays I do get to attend are all the more poignant for it.” He paused, then added. “And stranger.”

It was quite easy to fall out of touch with what was ‘normal’, which could make some holiday get-togethers quite awkward. It was hard to make small talk when the only thing you could think about was the chances of someone in the room dropping dead from nefarious causes.

…. Depressingly high, actually.

Kuroba laughed, sitting up. “I’ve had a few times like that.” He glanced around. “Does she really expect me to eat all this?” He asked in a stage whisper.

“Most likely.” Hakuba smirked, then held out his empty plate. “But I will take some if you are not certain you can devour all that in one sitting.”

“Thanks.” Kuroba stabbed a few with his fork and transferred them over. “Any plans for the day?” He inquired. The shadows under his eyes weren’t quite as dark as the previous evening, Hakuba noted with some pleasure, but they were still present.

“I would like to ask you some questions about yesterday.” He said carefully, watching Kuroba tense. “Merely about the text you sent.” He hastened to add.

Kuroba nodded. “I’ll tell you what I can.”

“No discussing business at the table!” Baaya’s voice scolded from the kitchen and Hakuba flinched. How did she do that?!

Kuroba snickered at him and Hakuba gave him a half-hearted glare, taking the butter and spreading some on his pancakes.

“‘Kaachan does the same thing.” Kuroba whispered with a grin before leaning back in his chair. “I’d introduce you to her sometime, but I think she’d probably eat you up with a spoon. She’s worse than I am.”

That... Took some imagining.

Although he could also see the wisdom in not wanting your rival to meet your mother, especially if she was as prone to embarrassing stories and pictures as his parents were.

The ceiling creaked above them, someone walking around. “Baaya?” He questioned.

“Oh, your father’s home.” She called back. “Day off for the holiday.”

“Ah. Okay.” Hakuba nodded.

And then froze. "Oh, _merde_." He muttered.

Kuroba's eyebrows went up, vanishing under his fringe. "Did you just cuss?!" He grinned.

"Pardon me for panicking slightly at the thought of introducing a _'potentially'_ -" He did air quotes around the word "-Internationally Wanted Jewel Thief to the _Head of the Metropolitan **Police**_.” Hakuba hissed at him.

Kuroba's eyes went wide. "Oh, shit." He muttered, staring up the ceiling.

"That is precisely what I said." Hakuba said, tracking Otousan's heavy footsteps down the hall, bypassing the stairs and going into the bathroom.

A large groan of relief filled the air, followed by the sound of a flushing toilet. Water ran, Otousan washing his hands, then wobbly making his way back to his room, where if the loud thud was any indication, he fell face first onto the bed and began snoring.

He let out a sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair. Otousan had probably been at one of the New Year's Celebrations, getting home late in the morning. They had a potential few more hours of sleep before he woke up for the day.

"I forgot about that part." Kuroba said, slicing into a pancake and shoving a large piece into his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed. "How high ranking your father is."

"It is difficult for me to forget sometimes." Hakuba muttered. "Here, I am always his son." In England, he was pretty much his own person, without Otousan's shadow. But Japan was where the Kaitou Kid was, so here he was as well.

"Some of Oyaji's old connections are like that. 'Oh, you look just like him at his age'." Kuroba mimicked, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Personally, I think I took after Kaachan more."

Hakuba thought over what little he had seen of Kuroba Chikage. "You have her smile." He finally concluded. What he had been able to find of Kuroba Toichi showed a consummate showman, mature, suave and genteel. Kuroba had some of that, mostly in his showman flair, but he took off after his mother's free-spirited nature more.

Kuroba stared at him for a minute before giving him a strange sort of smile. It made Hakuba wonder, trying to decipher it before he realised that it was a smile that wasn't some sort of a shield or a mask.

Hakuba took a sip of tea to hide his own pleasure at that. In many ways, Kuroba was just as fascinating, if not more so, than his white-clad alter ego. Just as much of a mystery wrapped in enigma, abet one that was within arms reach.

And who got chased by his best friend with a mop on a near-daily basis. Although Hakuba was vaguely uncertain if that counted as 'flirting' or not.

The rest of the meal passed by quickly, Baaya filling them up on pancakes, fruit, home fries and fried eggs. Kuroba laughed as she tried to feed him more, pleading a too-full stomach. Hakuba smiled to himself as Baaya clucked over Kuroba like a mother hen. She had run a large house full of children before Hakuba's birth, and while he had been a small terror as a child, Hakuba alone was not enough to keep her occupied anymore.

"The day is still young." Hakuba said, pushing his chair back and rising. He usually didn't eat much for breakfast, but figured Kuroba wouldn't eat if Hakuba ate his usual light fare. "And we still have things to do."

Kuroba looked slightly grateful for the escape, quickly rising to his feet as well. "Thank you for breakfast, Baaya." Hakuba said, kissing her cheek as he walked by. She smiled and shooed them back upstairs.

"I am never introducing her to Kaachan." Kuroba murmured, rubbing his stomach as he followed Hakuba into his room, as if it would protect him from the mother-henning of Baaya.

"You may borrow a shirt if you would like." Hakuba opened the wardrobe, opening the drawer that had some of his more casual shirts and motioning to the hanging button down shirts and sweaters. "There are spare toiletries in the bathroom as well."

"Thanks." Kuroba said, grabbing a long sleeved t-shirt. "I'll be right back." He excused himself, retreating back to the guest room.

He chose a white button down and a dark old fisherman's sweater, with patches on the shoulders and the elbows. With some slacks and boots, it would serve as reasonably dressed up while still staying warm. He had just finished clothing himself when Kuroba knocked on the door, then opened it, sticking his head in and glancing around as if he was expecting Hakuba to have changed more than his clothing.

"What do you have planned for today?" Hakuba asked as he ran a quick brush through his hair, not wishing to presume to take up too much more of Kuroba's time.

Kuroba shrugged, taking a seat on the bed. He looked like he'd rubbed some water on his head, the hair standing up in spikes a bit more than usual. "Some investigating. Last night's going to cause a lot more ripples than the past few deaths."

"The victims were easily identifiable, for one." Hakuba commented drily, turning on his computer. Kuroba made a face, not refuting it. Hakuba hesitated, not wishing to push Kuroba into fleeing, but wanting answers. "How did you know where he was going to be last night?"

Kuroba glanced away, looking out the window as if he wanted to jump out of it. "Bad news travels fast." He finally shrugged. "He got sloppy last night and someone saw him. It was like a mass exodus to get away from the Boogieman in case he decided to grab them too."

"Is that what they're calling him?" Hakuba asked with some amusement.

Kuroba spread his hands wide. "He's grabbing people who are known for being able to take care of themselves without a trace. People are running scared." He shifted, looking thoughtful. "According to some, he's sending a message."

"That much was obvious." Hakuba tried to pull back the sarcasm, but from Kuroba's look, he wasn't entirely successful. "Apologies. Continue. What is the message?"

"Well, last night it changed." Kuroba rubbed the back of his neck. "From 'I'm here' to 'Wash your neck and wait'."

-For the sword coming to remove it from your head.

"And the train station was to keep people from fleeing." Hakuba deduced. It was the main portal of transportation in and out of the city. "You said someone saw him, do you have a description?"

"Big." Kuroba held his hands up over his head as if to demonstrate. "Tall. Dark."

They had already deduced the 'Big' and 'Tall' parts. At least someone Hakuba's height, and with the strength to carry around corpses like they were nothing. "Dark?"

"I don't know." Kuroba shrugged a shoulder. "It was after sunset. Dark clothing?"

"Hmm..." Hakuba mused, tapping his finger on the arm of his chair. Possibly, or possibly not. "The head you recognised-?" He ventured.

Kuroba gave another look to the window, obviously steeling himself. "He's called 'Snake'. Fancies himself a thief, but in reality, he's closer to a smuggler. And a killer for hire."

Smuggler... Hakuba frowned, the phrase sticking in his head. "I am loathed to ask, but do you know why he killed your father?"

"Yeah." Kuroba didn't look too happy with it. "Oyaji knew too much."

"Alright." Hakuba asked, letting it drop. Probably something related to the Kaitou Kid and his search for some sort of jewel. He quickly logged into his secure e-mail to see Moorii-sensei by any chance had sent him the reports on the heads. Perhaps some of the others had been identified as well.

Kuroba made an interesting noise and Hakuba glanced over to see Kuroba giving him a strange look. "While I am intensely curious as to what your father knew that got him killed, it has no bearing on the current investigation." Hakuba shrugged. "Unless that changes, I have no cause to ask."

Inquiries into the Kaitou Kid's activities would only get Kuroba to clam up about everything. It was better to set aside the topic of the Phantom Thief for the time being and concentrate on people being horrifically killed. Hopefully, Kuroba would be more forthcoming this way.

The look he got clearly stated that Kuroba thought Hakuba was off his rocker, but he appreciated it none the less.

Hakuba gave him a slight smile in return, then changed the subject. "Snake, yet another venomous creature."

"You think he's related to Ms. Lionfish and Centipede?" Kuroba looked thoughtful, but unsurprised.

"Bit too much of a coincidence not to be." Hakuba shrugged. "The other two were freelance, you said Snake worked for someone?"

Kuroba faltered, and Hakuba turned to look at him. Kuroba's lips were pressed into a thin tight line, something stormy brewing behind his eyes. "Kuroba?" Hakuba ventured.

"Let me do some more digging." Kuroba said, shaking his head. "Can you tell me if Edogawa is involved in this investigation?"

"Unofficially or officially?" Hakuba questioned.

"I don't think he's ever technically 'officially' involved." Kuroba said with a smirk.

"True." Hakuba had to give him that. "From what I heard at the headquarters yesterday, he's currently out of town with Mouri, involved in another case. But as Edogawa is Kudo Shin'ichi's apparent apprentice, Megure-keibu did try to contact him to see if he could get a hold of Kudo for assistance, but where ever they are at has no mobile phone service."

"Good." Kuroba seemed to relax slightly. "Hopefully, we'll have this solved by the time gets back."

Hakuba's eyebrows rose at that. Kuroba didn't want Edogawa involved? Interesting.

"Do you have any other information you can give me at this time?" Hakuba asked, biting back his curiosity.

Kuroba thought it over for a moment, then shook his head. "Not really. I need to do some more digging. I have a 'hunch' on how he's getting around unseen, but I need to check on that."

"Okay." Hakuba said, less certainly than he would have liked it to come out.

Kuroba gave him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry about me. Really."

Hakuba snorted. Unlikely. "If you wish for company, the door is open." He said, catching Kuroba's eye. "Do not hesitate, it is no imposition at all."

He would rather have Kuroba nearby the spending the night wondering if he was suffering from nightmares again.

Kuroba gave him an exasperatedly fond look. "Anyone ever tell you that you have a White Knight complex?" He asked.

"Frequently." Hakuba smirked. Like Kuroba had any room to talk, not with some of the stuff the Kaitou Kid pulled.

But investigations like this were hard. Usually with spree killers, there was more space between the discovery of the bodies, a few days, the question of 'when' and 'who' always hanging over their heads. Currently, they barely had time to investigate one body before another showed up. It was like being under constant siege. "But I will not be sleeping easily until we catch this killer." He admitted.

He got a birdlike look in return, Kuroba's head tilted to the side as if he had just discovered something new. "Alright." Kuroba agreed. "We'll see."

Hakuba let out a soft breath. "Thank you."

Kuroba shrugged and hopped to his feet. "I'd better go, already wasted most of the morning." He said unrepentantly.

A quick glance at the clock showed that it was almost noon. There were worse ways to waste a morning than with sleep and food.

"Okay." Hakuba rose to his feet as well, then held up a hand as he crept to the door and listened. There was the rustle of paper and the clink of silver against china downstairs. Otousan was eating breakfast. He motioned Kuroba to follow him, which Kuroba did, as stealthily as a shadow.

But not quite stealthily enough. Baaya was waiting for them at the door, holding something wrapped in a folded handkerchief.

"Uh." Kuroba eyed her nervously. "Hi."

"For you." She informed Kuroba, handing him the wrapped handkerchief. "Onigiri to eat later. I expect to see you for breakfast either tomorrow or the day after. Preferably both."

And with that, she walked away, back straight, head held high as if she expected her orders to be obeyed. Kuroba gave Hakuba a wide-eyed look.

"Better do as she says." Hakuba barely avoided laughing.

"I am never introducing her to Kaachan." Kuroba swore vehemently, handing the onigiri to Hakuba so he could put his shoes on.

"Probably wise." Hakuba agreed, attempting to keep a straight face and aware that he was mostly failing. "You have my phone number in the meantime, I keep it on me."

"Same." Kuroba agreed, straightening up. "Thanks for breakfast."

"You are quite welcome." Hakuba nodded, handing him back the onigiri. "I will pass it on to Baaya. And hopefully we will see you either tonight or tomorrow."

Kuroba made a face that he couldn't quite interpret, then gave a mock salute, letting himself out. Hakuba watched him go, then took a breath, switching mental tracks. He walked into the dining room. "Happy New Year." He greeted his father.

"Hrm? Oh! Happy New Year Saguru-kun!" Otousan said, giving him a surprised absentminded smile.

Hakuba returned the smile and continued on to the kitchen. Despite his reasonably impressive track record in solving crimes, Otousan still insisted that Hakuba was merely 'playing detective'. And while it had been convenient for getting him onto the Kaitou Kid Task Force under Nakamori, Hakuba wouldn't have been able to stay if he was just playing dress-up.

He loved his father, but after so many years abroad, he wasn't sure that they really knew each other very well.

Baaya was gathering dishes to put in the dishwasher when he walked in. "He said for me to pass on his thanks." He said, collecting some of the pots and placing them in the sink.

She smiled fondly. "Such a nice boy."

One of Hakuba's eyebrows rose. "You do realise who he probably is?"

"Yes." Baaya sniffed primly. "It is rather obvious. But that does not make him any less of a nice boy. He's far too skinny, for everything that he does."

Hakuba chuckled quietly. "If you had your way, we would all be Otousan's size."

Baaya's eyebrow flickered upwards, glancing in the direction of where his father was sitting. She kept trying to switch Otousan to a healthier diet to compensate for his lack of exercise, but it didn't do much good, considering that he was rarely home.

"Bring him by more often." She commanded. "Especially after this nasty business is over. I'll introduce him to a proper roast."

"Yes, Baaya." Hakuba smiled indulgently. She gave him a shrewd look back, then waved him out of the kitchen.

Hakuba left, chuckling quietly to himself. It really didn't matter if he was going by Kuroba Kaito or the Kaitou Kid, he charmed the ladies where ever he went.

+++

The day passed by in a flurry of research. Including Snake, four of the heads were somewhat identified, all of them with records in either theft, smuggling or drug dealing. Thanks to his meticulous records on the Kaitou Kid, he was able to place Snake at the scenes of the theft of the Blue Birthday, the Crystal Mother, and the Red Tear.

He sent the information to Nakamori, who was rather triumphant over this, sending the Task Force into a flurry of action, trying to track Snake to other thefts. If Nakamori couldn't catch the Kaitou Kid, catching those who were trying to kill him was a close second. The Kid was _their_ thief, after all.

Baaya reminded him about 5 o'clock that it was New Years and he should go pay his respects at the local shrine. Which was her way of saying he had been sitting on his butt too long today and to go out and get some exercise. Healthy body, healthy mind.

Bundled up in a long wool coat and scarf, he stepped outside and lifted his face to the sun. It was a nice day out, sunny and chill. It was enough to make him take the long route around to stretch his legs. And walking by one of the many channels of water that riddled Ekoda was always pleasant.

There were fewer people out than usual, which was both nice and a bit alarming. People staying in because of the murder, he supposed. He hadn't looked at the news today, but he was sure the media was up in arms. It was a shame though, the sunset was lovely, casting a golden glow on everything.

The cry of several crows jolted him out of his enjoyment and he glanced up, seeing three have a mid-air fight over something long and thin in the sky. A snake, possibly? New Years noodles?

The answering cry of many many more caught his attention, and he could see a flock moving around an area up ahead, where the small channel he was walking along joined the large canal that eventually met the ocean.

Crows were scavengers.

Hakuba picked up the pace, trotting forward, hoping it was nothing. Off to the side of the road, he could see something that looked like large thick noodles strung over tree branches, the crows pecking at them. The entire area looked like it was decorated in streamers. The birds screamed at him as he approached, puffing their wings out and getting ready to fight.

He clapped a hand over his mouth as he realised what he was looking at.

It wasn't streamers, it was intestines.

He glanced up at the darkening sky, digging in his pockets for the flashlight that was usually there and turning it on. He crept off the path, ducking the intestines, heading to where he could hear more of the birds. A few meters off the road was a clearing, bodies laying sprawled out in it, birds pulling various pieces out of the corpses.

Hakuba counted. Seven. Seven bodies, all of them with their stomachs slashed open, their intestines pulled out and draped over the branches above them. The birds had gotten most of their eyes by now.

He fumbled for his phone and called Megure-keibu. "Found another dump site." He reported, giving the location the best he could. They could track the GPS on his phone as long as he left it on, but physical descriptions didn't hurt. "Bring lights and animal control, the crows have been here for a while."

Tucking the phone into his coat pocket, he pulled out a pair of gloves and started examining the bodies. Six men, one woman. All of them had had their legs, usually their knees shot out, their faces twisted into a moue of pain. They had been alive when they'd been sliced open and internals pulled out. A slow death, as their organs shut down.

Except the woman. Her face was scared, and there were tear tracks running down her face, but her neck was broken, head twisted to the side. The blood around her injuries did not look like the men's, they had been inflicted after death, including the bullets in her kneecaps.

Red and blue flashing lights alerted him to the police presence and he went out to the path he'd taken, waving his hands to catch their attention. From there, it was a blur of lights and action, a cordon put up, halogen lights set up, casting the scene in stark shadows, people running everywhere.

Megure-keibu and his team arrived, his second-in-command Shiratori taking Hakuba aside and getting his statement in a brisk no-nonsense fashion. It was a stark relief from the cautious way officers usually tried to treat him, as if this was some big shock to him. He explained his day, a late breakfast with a friend, research, and pointed that he had the corresponding e-mails on via a secured computer an alibi for most of the day.

He could understand the suspicion, seeing as he was now present for three of the seven discoveries, including last nights.

It was several hours later and much colder by the time he was finally cut free, a crowd gathering on the edges of the police cordon. The media was there as well, he could see the lights and towers for beaming footage back from a distance away. He glanced back at the bustling police officers, wondering if it was possible for him to ask for a ride back.

His phone chirped, a text message. He glanced down at it. ' _There's a small path to your left._ '.

Hakuba looked around, barely spotting the small foot path cutting through the trees. He glanced back at the crowd who hadn't seemed to spot him yet, then ducked down it. He went slowly, not daring to use his flash light in case it gave him away, stumbling a few times as he went down the twisted dark path.

It brought him out to do a larger foot path, the main path to the shrine he'd been trying to visit. "Hey." Kuroba's friendly voice greeted him. "Figured you might wanna avoid the chaos."

"Thank you." Hakuba breathed a sigh of relief. While he did not mind talking to most reporters, he was not in the mood to respond to questions he had no answers for.

Kuroba chuckled. "So what were doing out here anyway?" He asked, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Shrine visit." He tiredly motioned in the direction it was.

Kuroba turned and looked down the path, making a thoughtful humming sound. "Still want to go?" He asked.

Hakuba thought about it. "I must admit, I cannot see it doing much good at this point."

This earned him an amused laugh. "Come on." Kuroba motioned, starting to walk down the path towards the shrine. "I haven't visited yet either. You said I was welcome to spend the night at your house tonight?"

"Yes." Hakuba agreed, following him with a bit more energy than he'd had before. There was enough ambient light from the crime scene that they didn't need flashlights to see the fairly smooth path, but the distant glow of lanterns in the distance was a welcome sight.

They washed their hands in the chilly water next to the Torii gate before continuing to the shrine itself, tossing coins in and paying their respects. Kuroba managed to talk the shrine keeper into letting them get an _Omikuji_ , or fortune, out of a box before they left. Hakuba felt somewhat ashamed, the family who ran the shrine was obviously already settling down for the night.

After much thanks, they took their fortunes with them, taking a different route back to avoid the chaos, stopping to read them under the bright light of the streetlamps of the normal streets.

"What'd you get?" Kuroba asked, looking up from his.

"Shō-kichi." Hakuba said, pleased. 'Small Blessing'. "You?"

He got a wide grin in return. "Dai-kichi!" Kuroba cheered. 'Great Blessing', the luckiest fortune you could get.

Really, it just figured.

+++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omikuji


	8. The Eighth Day, 2 Jan

Day 8, 2 January

"Hakubaaaa." Kid said, his grin a permanent wide death grimace, stretched from the edge of the right mandible to the left temporomandibular joint, the skin around it flapping freely, severed from the bones beneath. "Hey, Hakubaaaa."

Intestines drooped from tree branches, draping themselves over his shoulders, down his arms and around his neck. Hakuba tried to brush them off, but they twined around him, tightened their grip. Other bodies joined the Kaitou Kid's, the splayed corpses from the clearing, the headless woman with the lionfish tattoo carrying her head under her arm. Miscellaneous limbs crawled across the dead leaves towards him.

"Hakubaaaa." The Kaitou Kid said, his usually pristine white suit torn and loose on his skeletal frame. "Time to join the liiiiving."

The intestines tightened around him, cutting off his air supply. He tried to claw at his neck, but his arms were held fast. The guts yanked him off the ground, entangled feet swinging in mid-air as he gasped for breath.

The Kaitou Kid stood in front of him, his empty black eye sockets almost looking confused. "Hakuba?"

"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Hakuba sat up, ripping the blankets around him and coming face to face with the Kaitou Kid. "AAAHHHH!" He swung, trying to push the thief away from him.

"ACK!" The Kid yelped in surprise, rolling out of the way by falling off what appeared to be Hakuba's bed with a messy sprawl.

Hakuba pounced, pinning the thief to the floor. "Do. Not. Move." He growled, reaching towards the Kid's neck.

"What do you mean 'don't move'?!" The Kid demanded. "If you're going to strangle me, I'm damn well gonna move!"

"Belt it!" Hakuba snapped. "You always talk too much when you're dead!"

Kid made a gurgling sound in the back of his throat. Hakuba placed his index and middle finger against the side of the thief's neck, trying to find the carotid artery.

_BA-bum. BA-bum. BA-bum._

Kid was alive.

Hakuba took a deep breath and let it out again, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the here and now. It was a dream, just another nightmare. He was fine, not dead, not being strangled by intestines. In his room, at home. He was safe, no attacks.

He opened his eyes again, finding Kuroba staring up at him with a confused expression. Kuroba. Not the Kaitou Kid.

_BA-bum. BA-bum. BA-bum._

"Apologies." He removed his hand from Kuroba's neck and climbed off of him.

"No problemo." Kuroba said, reaching up to rub at his throat. "You often dream of the Kaitou Kid dead and yammering at you?"

"Sometimes." Hakuba looked away, absently straightening his clothing. More often than he liked to admit. "The dead do not need to breathe, so there is no reason to stop for breath while talking." Or so a dead Kaitou Kid had cheerfully informed him while idly poking at a rather large hole in his chest that went straight out his back.

"Oh." Kuroba stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

"I frequently have what could be considered 'nightmares'." Hakuba said dismissively, reaching a hand out to help Kuroba to his feet. "It is nothing to be concerned about."

He had grown accustomed to them, unless awakened before they ran their course. In which case the images did not fade with the mercy of the morning light, but remained vibrant in his mind.

"Baaya sent me up to get you for breakfast." Kuroba said, taking Hakuba's hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. "Sorry I startled you."

Hakuba felt himself start to blush in mortification. He'd nearly punched Kuroba out for waking him up for breakfast. As if Kuroba didn't think he was crazy enough as it was, what with chasing the Kaitou Kid and all.

Kuroba studied him for a moment, the frank assessing look in his eyes stopping Hakuba's half-formed apology in his throat. "I'll go tell Baaya that you'll be down in a little bit." Kuroba flicked one of Hakuba's sweat-stained locks out of his face. "Go take a shower, relax, and get dressed. There's no hurry. Your dad left for the day before I woke up anyway."

"I..." Hakuba swallowed. "Thank you."

Kuroba shrugged, waving it away. "I get nightmares too." He said simply, removing his hand from Hakuba's and wandering out the door.

Hakuba stared after him, a mixed up feeling in his chest that felt strangely like relief and hope.

A lot of people couldn't handle the hard realities of being friends with someone that was a detective, the constant barrage of the worst of humanity, the very real threat against their lives, and the side effects that came with it. He'd lost roommates at school back in London because he couldn't stop from waking them up with his screams in the middle of the night, before he'd learned to dream in silence.

However, he couldn't stop solving crimes, even if he wanted to. They found him, even when he wasn't actively searching for mysteries to solve. He wasn't normal, would never be normal, and it was hard to meet people who could deal with that.

But then Kuroba had demons of his own. Ones that made him dance in the sky while wearing white clothing in the middle of the night.

Perhaps that was the reason he was so fascinated with Kuroba, as himself as well as the Kaitou Kid. It was rare to find someone broken in such a similar way.

Taking a calming breath, he gathered up today’s clothing and went to the bathroom to take the recommended shower. He ran his fingers through his hair, making a disgusted face at the way it stuck up, stiff and sticky with sweat.

He took as quick of a shower as possible, the winter chill sinking into the air almost as soon as he turned the hot air off. Skin goosepimpling in the cold, he nearly set a new record for getting dressed. Hair neatened, socked feet tucked into slippers, he headed down stairs to face Baaya and Kuroba.

Kuroba was looking meditative over a cup of coffee. "Good morning." Hakuba murmured, sitting down across from Kuroba to pour himself a cup of tea.

"Morning." Kuroba gave him a small smile back. There were small smudges under his eyes that Hakuba hadn't notice earlier, Kuroba probably didn't slept particularly well last night either, but still better than he had earlier in the week. But Kuroba's smile more sincere than mask and it lightened Hakuba's mood immensely, smoothing out the last remains of the morning's nightmare.

Baaya bustled in, bringing in oatmeal stuffed with bits of dried fruit and a splash of maple syrup, asking if he wanted eggs or not, of course he wanted eggs, she would be right back, and left. Kuroba watched it all with a look of muted amusement on his face, looking like he was trying not to smile or laugh. "She did the exact same thing to me." Kuroba confided, toying with his cup.

"You do get used to it." Hakuba sighed. He wasn't feeling terribly hungry, and Baaya probably knew that, but he'd eat as much as he could. Although he didn't think he would be up for eating noodles for at least a day or two.

He paused, rewinding the words through his head and realised how they sounded. He wasn't sure if Kuroba would be around enough to get used to it. They were working together for the sake of catching this serial killer, once this case was over, there was a very real possibility that things would go back to the way they were, barely acknowledging each other in class aside from the occasional snide remark.

Kuroba didn't seem to notice Hakuba's slip of the tongue. "You made the newspaper." Kuroba glanced around for Baaya's presence before pulling a section of folded newspaper out of... somewhere. He passed it to Hakuba, who glanced at the front page. It was him, back lit by the lights set up in the background. Fortunately, there did not seem to be any mention of his name as he skimmed it. Kuroba cleared his throat and Hakuba quickly tucked the newspaper under his thigh, hiding it from view just before Baaya walked back in.

"Eat." She scolded, handing him a over-hard fried egg and walking off. Hakuba sighed, feeling a headache coming on.

This was why he hated serial killers. It wasn't just the senseless deaths, but the long term stress. So much for a peaceful Winter Break.

"I think I may have figured out how he's getting around." Kuroba added in a hushed tone, keeping an eye on the kitchen door. "Eat, I'll tell you once we get back upstairs."

Hakuba felt both of his eyebrows go up at that, and he attacked his oatmeal with a great deal more gusto than he had previously. "How did you sleep last night?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Pretty good." Kuroba shrugged. "Woke up once or twice. Did you know that you don't exactly snore, but you do breathe really loud when you're on your back?"

"Cannot say that I have ever noticed." Hakuba admitted with some amusement, even as he translated what Kuroba wasn't saying. Kuroba had woken up and checked on him a few times in the night. Hakuba was often a heavy enough sleeper that he could have shared the bed with Kuroba again without ever even knowing it.

Kuroba snickered, then turned somewhat sombre. "Aoko checked up on me, she was worried since it didn't look like I'd been home for a few days. Told her I'd been crashing here." It wasn't so much a statement as a question.

"That is fine." Hakuba shrugged a shoulder. "You could say that Baaya decided that you were too thin and kidnapped you to fatten you up, if you wished. It would not be far from the truth. And if she decided to verify it, I am sure that Baaya would be more than thrilled to do the same for Nakamori-chan."

"She would blame me for any weight gain." Kuroba grinned, the set of his shoulders relaxing. "Be totally worth it."

"Baaya makes a divine cream pastry." Hakuba could not help but to smile back. "How do you think Nakamori-chan would react to a fancy British tea?"

Kuroba gave an evil chortle. "She'd love it. You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but she's a sucker for girly stuff. Flowers, cakes, getting dressed up fancy. She just hides it cause she's a police officer's daughter and thinks she has to act tough like her Dad."

Hakuba shuddered. "Cannot wait until she is on the Force. She will scare the criminal element into submission by the strength of her glare."

"And bellow." Kuroba nodded in agreement. "Don't forget her bellow."

"Yes." Hakuba agreed drily. "Neither member of that family requires a bullhorn to get their voices heard."

Kuroba laughed gleefully, changing the topic to their other classmates and school as Hakuba quickly devoured his breakfast. Baaya seemed pleased with his appetite as she took the plates away, shooing them back upstairs.

Hakuba logged into his e-mail to see if there had been any progress over the night while Kuroba made himself comfortable on Hakuba's bed. Moorii had sent him her preliminary report, with a note attached that she had heard that he was the one to find it. It was half congratulations, half sympathy and it made him grimace slightly as he printed the report out. He had a feeling that she wasn't technically supposed to be sending him it.

The personal, rather than professional, email address she sent it from was a bit of a hint.

"Remember a few days ago, you showed me a map of the area, where the body parts had been dumped?" Kuroba asked as the printer made its soft noises. Hakuba nodded in agreement

"I noticed something I wasn't sure about." Kuroba crossed his legs, hands gripping his ankles as he rocked slightly. "The farther inland from the ocean the bodies were, the later at night they were found. So I spent yesterday doing some some footwork. Turns out, if you've got a small flat-bottomed boat, you can reach pretty much all the dump sites with minimum walking."

The area was riddled with rivers and streams. The under-road tunnels weren't necessarily made for water transportation, but it wouldn't be impossible. And unlike the streets, the streams were not lit up after dark. The farther inland the killer went, the farther he had to travel, the longer it took for him to get to where he wanted to unobserved.

"So he was not on the streets where he could be seen." Hakuba followed the train of thought. "Except for the night before last, before he changed his pattern."

"When he wanted to be seen." Kuroba nodded. "This guy's playing a mind game. Who ever he's after, he wants running scared."

"You think he's gotten who he's looking for yet?" Hakuba asked, forehead wrinkling. The deaths were already pretty horrific before they started adding in numbers.

"Actually, here's the thing." Kuroba pulled out his mobile, pressing a few buttons and flipping through something before holding it up. It was Hakuba's pictures of the severed heads. "I swiped your phone and e-mailed them to myself." Kuroba said dismissively before Hakuba could argue. "With the exception of Snake, all these guys are _international_ smugglers. They're not based out of Japan. Two areas of speciality, and neither of them is weaponry."

"Human trafficking and drugs." Hakuba deduced. "They bring the goods into Japan and the local distribution system moves them around."

"You got it." Kuroba nodded.

"With the exception of these latest seven, all of them had been carved." Hakuba grabbed the papers out of the printer and began scanning. Kuroba made a curious noise and Hakuba extrapolated, belatedly realising that he'd never discussed what he had found. "Their legs had been shot. Kneecaps, mostly."

"Knives can take longer." Kuroba muttered darkly. Hakuba made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat, passing the papers over to Kuroba.

While all seven victims had had their intestines draped all over the area, there had been more intestine than was possible for seven bodies. By at least twice.

They had just found some of the innards from their previous corpses.

Last night's scene had been planned, just like the others. Their suspect had saved the intestines for just this reason.

"If he is hiding out on the ocean, we might never find the rest of the body parts." Hakuba mused out loud. "He could just throw the pieces he is not interested in overboard, where the scavengers would eat it. If we are very lucky, a piece or two might wash up on the beach."

"Yet another reason not to eat fish." Kuroba made a face. Hakuba nodded, mentally swearing off seafood for at least a week after this case was solved. Especially local-caught.

"I will inform Megure-keibu of the water transportation." Hakuba said, turning his attention towards the computer. "As of yesterday, they have put together a Task Force to catch this killer."

Hakuba was not invited. This did not stop him from proceeding with the investigation.

"I think I might recognise these two." Kuroba said after a moment. Hakuba turned around around to see the pages he was holding up. One of the men and the woman. "She's his off-again on-again girlfriend."

"And only the second female." Hakuba pointed out. "Yet he did not let her suffer like he did the first. All of her wounds are post-mortem, instead of pre-mortem."

"Think she just got caught up in it?" Kuroba tilted his head to the side. "Since he's been doing a number pattern, she was the easiest to flesh it out to seven?"

"Possibly." Hakuba shrugged, turning his attention back to the computer. He BCC'd Nakamori and Moorii on the e-mail as well. Even if Megure-keibu didn't listen to him, chances were that the other two might.

Kuroba made another thoughtful sound. "Hey, Hakuba?"

"Yes?"

"You do realise this guy is probably foreign?" Kuroba said carefully.

"That had crossed my mind."

".... And about your height."

"Yes."

Kuroba made another thoughtful sound. "You're on the suspect list, aren't you?"

Hakuba paused, taking a breath. "Possibly." He admitted. He had been trying not to dwell on it.

It didn't matter how many cases he solved, or how useful he was, he was only half-Japanese. Which meant he wasn't totally Japanese, and therefore always a bit suspect as a foreigner. Family, Friends, Neighbourhood, City, State, Country. Those were the social circles from innermost to farthest importance, and he could barely breach the outermost on a good day.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think you did it." Kuroba said cheerfully. Of course, Kuroba knew where Hakuba had been during most of the killings. "And Nakamori-keibu'll probably yell at anyone who even mentions the idea."

Hakuba laughed quietly, feeling slightly better. "Thank you."

"No problem."

+++

Kuroba left shortly afterwards, checking out some more leads that he stayed quiet on. Hakuba was certain Kuroba would tell him when Kuroba was ready or had proof.

It was a novel thing, trusting someone in an investigation. It was remarkably nice.

With more recognisable body parts, came names. And with names came rap sheets, most of them international as Kuroba had predicted. Some had ties to the Chinese Triad, others to diamond and heroin smuggling out of India, and some to Eastern Europe. Budapest in particular was a hot spot for trafficking just about everything, considering its centralised geographical location.

The problem was that once it was out of Japan, it made it an international problem, which meant dealing with Interpol records, which Hakuba didn't have the authorisation for.

It was just after 16:30 when got a call back from Kuroba.

"Have you ever heard of 'Krampus'?" Kuroba said grimly.

Hakuba thought it over for a moment. "Germanic myth. Some sort of devil who travels with Saint Nicholas. If you've been bad, he shoves you into his sack and takes you away, presumably to eat you."

"Not entirely a myth." Kuroba said, sounding weary. "European underground clean up man. Takes anyone who might have been causing too much trouble or been too naughty, grabs them, and they're never seen again."

The 'alive' didn't have to be said. He opened a new window and started running searches. "Why?"

"Just got a phone call from a 'concerned friend' in France." Kuroba sounded like he was rubbing a hand over his face in annoyance. "Rumour is that he's in Tokyo currently."

"Does he have another name?" Hakuba asked, glancing through the search engine results. Most of them depicted Krampus looking like a black European Devil, long goat horns, covered in dark shaggy fur, goat legs, cloven hoofs, and sticking his tongue out.

Which wasn't much of a help when they were looking for a real person, not a myth.

"Dunno." Kuroba sounded tired.

"Come back here when you are ready to crash." Hakuba swallowed, then amended himself. "I would feel better if you spent the night here again. Pack a bag if you wish, Baaya does not mind."

Kuroba chuckled. "Yeah, I got that impression." He said with amusement. "I'll be back in about an hour. If you don't hear from me by then, assume I've been stuffed into a sack."

"Will do." Hakuba said, not entirely joking. "And pass my thanks along to Chat Noir if you would."

There was slight pause, then a huff of either annoyance or irritation, then the line went dead.

Hakuba smirked to himself. Despite what the official police records stated, he knew that the Kaitou Kid had ultimately assisted in helping Chat Noir succeed in their mission. The French Cat Burglar had disappeared immediately after, having collected all seven of Mitsuishi Dan's collection of Marie Antoinette's Cat's Eye jewellery, the final piece being the ring that both the Kid and Chat Noir had been targeting.

And Hakuba had also seen Kuroba's Jii-chan at the Paris Collection Fashion Show, although he'd taken pains not to be seen by the older gentleman.

He was willing to bet that Chat Noir had continued to keep tabs on the Kaitou Kid, and was merely returning the assistance that Kid had once given them. If Krampus was targeting Japanese criminals, it only made sense to warn the Kaitou Kid of his presence, to keep Kid from becoming a victim as well.

Hakuba settled down for some heavy research.

At least they had a possible lead now.

+++

Good as his word, Kuroba made it back within the hour, a small backpack over his shoulder. Baaya looked pleased as she shooed him up the stairs to the guest room, warning that dinner was promptly at six, and to wash his hands before coming down.

"It's really weird." Kuroba said as greeting, plopping down on Hakuba's bed. "Even my mom isn't that mothering."

"It is occasionally annoying." Hakuba admitted, sitting back down on his desk chair. "But it is nice to know that someone constantly cares." Baaya went above and beyond her official job capacity, which was why Hakuba would take any job request that she asked him to. Loyalty went both ways.

Kuroba made a noncommittal noise, obviously not sure what to do with that. "Find anything?"

"Just references to a 'Black Peter' in mythology." Hakuba sighed, rubbing eyes. "Another form of Krampus, supposedly a dark-skinned Moor."

"Tall, big, dark." Kuroba quoted.

"Yup." Hakuba nodded. He'd had the same thought.

"So, question." Kuroba did something twisty with his body so he was laying on his back, looking at Hakuba upside-down. "You mentioned 'Saint Nicholas'. Any relation to 'Santa Claus'?"

"Somewhat." Hakuba leaned back in the chair. "[Saint Nicholas](http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/home/) is the original myth, I suppose you could say. He was a real man, became a bishop, did a great many good things, and became a Saint by the church after his death. His feast day, or holiday, is 6 December, the day he died. Santa Claus is kind of like a bastardised commercialisation that eventually developed from Saint Nicholas' story. Do not ask me where the North Pole or Elves thing came from."

"So he is a Christmas time thing." Kuroba mused.

"Yes." Hakuba agreed. "Think I remember reading in some Scandinavian countries, it's illegal to show images of Santa Claus until after Saint Nicholas' feast day, to keep people from getting confused."

Kuroba shook his head, making his hair swing. "European customs are strange." It was more an expression of confusion than a complaint.

Hakuba shrugged. Many thought that Japanese traditions were weird too. It was all matter of culture and what you grew up with. Christmas in Japan was a far cry from Christmas in England, and they didn't even celebrate Boxing Day here.

He switched tabs, checking the news feeds and let out a groan. Kuroba rolled over, sitting up. "What?"

"Eight dead." Hakuba read out loud. "Found in a back alley, covered in several kilograms of illegal marijuana."

"Cause of death?"

"Unknown." Hakuba let out a soft curse. "It does not say."

Kuroba gave him a sideways look. Eight followed the pattern. "...Could be a coincidence." Kuroba offered.

"Could be." Hakuba admitted. "Could not be too."

They'd have to wait and see if any more bodies were found in the night.

+++


	9. The Ninth Day, 3 Jan

Day 9, 3 January.

It was quiet when Hakuba woke up. The house was still, as if he were the only person awake, or in it. He rolled over, checking the clock and was surprised to discover that it was still only about 7.

Too early to get up, but too late to go back to sleep. He lay there for a moment, debating just having a bit of a lay in, then decided that was too slothful for a Wednesday with a case going on. Something to do once the case was solved.

He rolled out of bed and lazily got dressed, checking his e-mail as he did. No other serious major crimes through the night, which meant that the eight dead stoners were probably their mystery man's message.

While there were a lot of statistics linking crime and drugs, there was a lot more violent crime while using alcohol than marijuana. He had a hard time picturing eight men randomly killing themselves while chilling out on what was essentially a psychoactive sedative.

His searches for information on Krampus had continued to bring up nothing, He contacted an acquaintance who owed him a favour in Interpol to see if she could find anything on Krampus that she could send his ways and mentally crossed his fingers. Inspector Fox's view of the world was extremely black and white, and he was a bit of grey, being a private detective and not part of any police force.

He glanced outside, slightly surprised to see the thin layer of white snow covering the grounds. That would explain the silence, it always seemed quieter when it snowed, at least for a little while.

Feeling glad he was inside, he tucked his feet in the house slippers and padded down the hall. The door to Kuroba's room was open a crack and he peered inside. Kuroba was sprawled out under the duvet, one hand and the mess of spikes that was his hair the only thing visible. There was a soft breathing sound, than a hiccup as Kuroba twisted around, half sitting up to look blearily at him.

"Merely checking on you." Hakuba whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Kuroba snorted and fell backwards in the bed, pulling the duvet over his head. Hakuba quietly backed up and closed the door, heading downstairs. Baaya was futzing around in the kitchen, humming a small tune as she did so, nothing Hakuba could recognise. "Ah, Botchama!" She startled as she saw him. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Baaya." He smiled back, giving her a kiss on the cheek as an apology.

She swatted at him playfully anyway. "I'm making a pot of drinking chocolate this morning as well as tea." She said, half-scolding, the threat that he wouldn't get any if he didn't behave floating in the air. He ignored it. He was always good.

Mostly.

"Kuroba will love that." Hakuba grinned. "It is what got him in trouble in the first place."

She snorted and attempted to shoo him out into the dining room. He debated on going, then hopped up on one of the counter tops out of Baaya's way, watching her work. Baaya didn't like it when he did that, thinking it was too plebeian for their household, but the kitchen was warm and comfortable while the dining room was cold and solitary, and she'd allow it as long as he didn't make too big of a bother.

Baaya hummed to herself, pulling out various pans and setting them on the stove. "English breakfast?" Hakuba questioned as she pulled out a can of beans.

"I thought your friend might like something different." Baaya nodded. "If he is here tomorrow morning, I was thinking crepes might be nice. Sausages? Bacon?"

Hakuba thought about it for a moment, then shook his head, feeling slightly queasy at the idea. "No. Thank you." He'd had enough with intestines for a while.

She made a noise in the back of her throat, expressing her displeasure at his lack of appetite for proper foods, but didn't comment on it. They'd had this argument and they'd both lost. By virtue of him spectacularly losing the contents of his stomach all over his dinner plate. It had been many years now, but it was something that neither of them forgot.

The kettle boiled and she poured the hot water into a teapot, swirling the hot water around to warm the ceramic before pouring the water out and refilling it, tossing the teabags in this time. She set it next to him, permitting him to take care of the tea while he was insisting on being in the kitchen. He wasn't permitted to help her cook, but he was at least allowed to do this.

She sliced up tomatoes and mushrooms, throwing them in a frying pan with a bit of butter to fry them up as the beans baked. Once three minutes had passed, he slid off the counter, removing the teabags from the pot, pressing them to get the last of the dark tea. The bags were placed in a bowl by the electric kettle for just such a purpose, so they'd have a chance to dry out. While he was up, he grabbed the sliced bread and stuck a few pieces in the toaster, pushing the button down for them to cook.

"Botchama." Baaya nudged him with her sharp pointy elbow. "Out."

"Yes ma'am." He obeyed, grabbing the container of milk out of the refrigerator as he passed, taking the teapot with him as he left the kitchen. The dining room was slightly chilly after the heat of the kitchen, but at least he had his morning tea with him now. And earned Baaya's wrath for helping, which was always amusing.

He'd just finished savouring his first cup of tea when he heard the upstairs door slam and the sound of shuffled footprints. They went down the hall to his bedroom, pausing there. "Downstairs." He called, rising to his feet and moving swiftly for the stairs. A nightmare?

Hakuba didn't make it to the bottom of the stairs before he was pushed back against the wall, the bottom of his shirt and jumper unceremoniously shoved up over his head, trapping his arms in the sleeves. "Mrph?"

Cold fingers prodded his chest, pressing against the centre of his ribcage, before settling on top of his heart. He could hear Kuroba's harsh breathing evening out as he felt Hakuba's heartbeat.

"Alright?" He asked, the fabric rucked up under his arms keeping him from easily lowering them.

Kuroba let out a slow even breath, not releasing him. "Yeah." He finally said, voice a little rough. Kuroba lowered the shirts enough to glare at Hakuba's face. "Y'know how the Kid doesn't stop talking to you?"

It took half a second for his brain to catch the reference. Yesterday's nightmare. "Yes?"

"Stop getting yourself shot in the chest." Kuroba growled, looking ready to rip Hakuba's head off and shove it somewhere uncomfortable if he didn't.

Hakuba gawked for a moment before he caught the reference. Twilight Mansion. The Kaitou Kid had disguised himself as Mouri Kogoro, and all the detectives gathered there collectively faked their deaths to flush out the killer.

'Mouri' had been the one to check to see if Hakuba was 'alive', as the puddle of fake blood expanded around him.

That was almost two years ago. Had Kuroba been having nightmares about that this whole time?

"Got it." Hakuba squeaked. Not a problem. He wasn't terribly fond of bullets anyway.

The sharp click of a camera shutter caught their attention and they both turned to find Baaya standing there, holding her mobile phone up. She pressed the screen and a second click followed. "That's going up as the new wallpaper!" Baaya said cheerfully, thumbs moving quickly as she fiddled with the phone.

"Baaya!" Hakuba squeaked. Kuroba seemed to realise what he was doing and quickly yanked Hakuba's shirts down, unfortunately not moving his hand that was still over Hakuba's heart first. This resulted in a bit of a scuffle, Hakuba trying to pull his shirts down as Kuroba attempted to remove his hand, both of them getting tangled up in the material in the process.

"Breakfast is ready when you decide if you want Botchama's shirts on or off." Baaya airily informed them, turning on her heel and walking off to the kitchen with a great deal more smug dignity than was really necessary.

"Kuroba!" Hakuba swatted at Kuroba's hands, the two of them finally disentangling.

"I didn't mean to!" Kuroba snapped back.

"I know!" Hakuba hastily straightened his clothing. "Just _please_ tell me you can steal the phone and delete the pictures before she e-mails them to Mum!"

Kuroba froze, looking like he was caught between two warring impulses. To steal, or not to steal, that was the question.

"You do not need to send a warning notice on this one!" Hakuba hissed. "You have my express permission!"

"I keep telling you!" Kuroba snapped back. "I'm not-"

"Oh, Kuroba-kun." Baaya's voice echoed from the kitchen, cutting off Kuroba's usual retort. "What was your mother's phone number again?"

"Oh, shit." Kuroba whimpered and then appeared to suddenly vanish.

Hakuba took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. Chances were that Baaya already had Kuroba's mother's phone number. She was prone to doing background checks on everyone around him.

But if this was Baaya's revenge, he was never, ever helping out in the kitchen again.

+++

"Baaya's got an evil streak in her." Kuroba muttered as he fell backwards onto Hakuba's bed. He was still wearing his pyjamas, "And here I thought she was a sweet nice old lady."

"You should see what happens to those who call her 'old'." Hakuba murmured, seeing if there was anything new in e-mail. Kuroba snickered in response.

"Nah, I'm good." Kuroba waved it off, showing a rare sense of self preservation. "So, what's the plan?"

"I am currently endeavouring to uncover more on Krampus, but not currently having much luck." He sighed. "Any chance of getting a real name?"

"Nope." Kuroba drawled. Honour among thieves only went so far, apparently. "Anything from the police?"

"Hold on." He switched e-mail accounts, finding something in his non-professional account. "Remind me to send something nice to Moorii when this is all over." Hakuba waved a hand at Kuroba. "We've got the preliminary report on the eight corpses from last night."

"She's my new favourite person who cuts up dead bodies ever." Kuroba swore fervently as he sat up.

Hakuba printed out a copy, skimming it on screen as he did so. "Oh, he's a bastard." He swore.

"What?" Kuroba climbed out of the bed to look over Hakuba's shoulder. Hakuba pushed him away, quickly scrolling back up to the top of the report and grabbing the pages out of the printer. He shuffled through them, removing the photographs that were on the last few pages.

"What?" Kuroba demanded, looking both confused and annoyed.

"Here." Hakuba thrust the text copy at Kuroba, holding the pictures away. Kuroba gave a him a dark glare, not touching the papers. Hakuba stared back, meeting Kuroba's irritation. "Trust me." Hakuba said firmly.

Look wary, Kuroba took the offered pages and sat down to read them, occasionally glancing up at Hakuba as if expecting him to snatch those pages away as well.

Hakuba turned around, re-reading the report a little bit slower this time. The bodies had been dumped in the alley, but not killed there. The marijuana had been poured over them post-mortum, part of the killer's message.

"Wait." Kuroba's voice was puzzled behind him. "They were poisoned?"

"Yes." Hakuba said grimly.

"Isn't that rather quick?" Kuroba questioned, looking confused. "Erk, ack, reach for throat, fall down dead?"

"You are thinking of Potassium Cyanide." Like what had killed Oogami at the Twilight Mansion. "This was [Strychnine](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strychnine_poisoning)."

"Alright." Kuroba scratched his head. "Poisons are not my area expertise. I've heard of it, but what's the difference?"

"About three hours of suffering." Hakuba deadpanned.

Kuroba made a questioning noise and Hakuba turned his chair around to explain. "A sufficient dose of cyanide usually kills in under a minute, stripping the blood of it's ability to transport oxygen, causing the victim to asphyxiate to death. It's quick."

"Okay." Kuroba nodded. "And Strychnine?"

"Is a neurotoxin." Hakuba tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. "It stops the body from being able to turn the signals to the nerves 'off', resulting in spams and seizures. Because everything is ramped up to 'on', even the slightest external stimulus is all over-whelming and may cause convulsions. Then comes the hyperextension, every muscle and tendon in the body tightening up, the spine curving backwards, the victim's face contorted into a grin. Breathing may or may not stop. After about 10-15 minutes, it passes, the body relaxes which is when the hypersensivity and convulsions start again. This cycle repeats itself until the victim either recovers, or dies of suffocation."

Kuroba stared at him, mouth open.

"It can take hours." Hakuba said quietly.

"Okay." Kuroba swallowed.

"The marijuana was probably laced with it." Hakuba rubbed his eyes, feeling weary. "They inhaled it, maybe ate some of it. The effects would not start for 15 to 30 minutes, and by then it was too late." With a tiny accidental dose, there was the possibility that they might have survived, especially with medical care. Which was not something their killer would have allowed them. The dose delivered was anything but 'small'.

The people in the photos died in the hyperextension stage, their faces frozen in a death rictus.

Kuroba didn't need to see that.

Hakuba didn't want to see it, but he needed to see if there were any clues left behind, any hints of who or where he might strike next.

They lapsed into silence, each stuck in their own thoughts. "Why don't you go get dressed?" Hakuba finally suggested gently. "I will send Moorii a thank you message in the meantime."

"Alright." Kuroba nodded, rising. He left the papers behind, a grim look on his face. With the white cape and tuxedo, he would have looked like an avenging angel, coming to smite the wicked. In rumpled pyjamas, he looked somewhat lost as to what to do.

Hakuba leaned backwards in his chair with a sigh, debating if teaming up with Kuroba had been the smartest idea after all. These sorts of things could leave mental scars. And both of them already suffered from nightmares, they didn't need to add fodder to the dreams.

He had the sudden image of Kuroba breaking into mortuary to investigate, seeing the corpses in person and shuddered. At least this way Hakuba was here to act as some sort of buffer.

With a sigh, he sat up, finding the cutest and most obnoxiously pink and flower filled online card that he could find, sending it to her personal e-mail, with the simple comment of 'Thanks'. She had a cute kitten calendar up in her office and was prone to wearing pink sparkling nail polish, so he figured she might like it.

His e-mail flashed, letting him know that he had a message. It was from Inspector Carmelita Fox. Hope rising, he clicked on it.

It was the Interpol report on one Grigore Petrescu. Alias: Gregory the Butcher. Black Peter. Krampus.

Born on 6 December, Saint Nicholas' Day. Place of Residence: Budapest, Hungary.

"WHOO!" Hakuba cheered, nearly throwing himself out of the chair in jubilation. Kuroba came running in, tugging his shirt over his jeans as he did so, an expectantly look on his face.

"What?!"

"Fox did it!" Hakuba beamed at him, bringing the page up. A profile shot was included, showing a tall broad shouldered man with dark olive skin, who looked almost middle eastern. He clicked print, jubilantly making a paper copy.

"Fox?" Kuroba questioned, leaning over the back of Hakuba's chair to read the screen.

"Carmelita Fox. Inspector for Interpol." Hakuba grinned, slowly scrolling through the report so they could both read. "Long story. We both chase thieves, she owed me a favour and came through on it."

"Thieves?" Kuroba echoed, eyes stuck on the screen.

"Sly Cooper." Hakuba waved it off. "Later. Look."

Going through the list of things attributed was like reading the check list of a Stephen King novel. If there was a way to fold, bend or mutilate the human body, Grigore had done it. A master torturer. Not from enjoyment, according to the profile, but because he had a knack for it and it was a way to make a living.

"Man...." Kuroba shuddered. "And I thought getting shot at was bad."

Hakuba made a noncommittal sound, still reading.

"Are we sure it's our guy?" Kuroba asked, resting an arm on top of Hakuba's head and leaning on him as if Hakuba were furniture.

"Pretty sure." Hakuba glanced upwards, deciding not to comment on it. "However, I am at a loss as to why he is here."

"Relations?" Kuroba asked, leaning forwards again. Hakuba scrolled up, looking for family. Mother and Father deceased, siblings unknown. Kuroba leaned over him to point at the screen. "He has a wife!"

"Lucie Petrescue." Hakuba read outloud. "Huh." It was hard to imagine someone who cut up people for a living being married. Couldn't exactly ask how was your day at work, could you?

"That's it!" Kuroba was practically bouncing, giving Hakuba an expectant look. Hakuba stared blankly back. Kuroba's expression fell slightly. "You don't get it, do you?"

"No?" Hakuba ventured.

Kuroba leaned over him, tapping the screen. "She's the motivation. You research her, she's the lynch pin."

"You sure?" Hakuba questioned, feeling slightly off kilter.

"Trust me. You have your strengths, I have mine." Kuroba patted the top of Hakuba's head, then bounced away. Hakuba did have to admit he had a point, Kuroba was excellent at reading people, where Hakuba had to struggle with it. "You research, I'll go talk."

"Talk?" Hakuba asked, feeling slightly confused as he rose and followed Kuroba. "To who?"

"What's the one thing our crooks all had in common?" Kuroba questioned as he walked into the guest room. "Aside from being dead?"

Hakuba thought it over. "Smugglers. Oh. OH!" He stared at Kuroba, who was grabbing a second layer of clothing. "They have his wife?"

There was no better way to control someone than through loved ones.

"Had." Kuroba said grimly. "Pretty sure this is a 'had'."

Hakuba's eyebrows rose. "How do you know?"

"Because." Kuroba patted Hakuba's cheek as he passed, heading for the stairs. "Oyaji changed professions for Kaachan. I'll call you in a couple of hours. Don't call until after sundown, alright?"

Meaning Kuroba was probably going somewhere dangerous where a ringing phone could be a bad idea. "Alright." Hakuba agreed, following him down the stairs. "Is e-mail safe to send you information to?"

"Yeah." Kuroba grabbed his coat hanging by the front door and swung it around his shoulders. "It's set to silent, I'll check it every few couple of hours."

"Excellent." Hakuba nodded. "Will you be returning tonight?"

Kuroba hesitated as he put his shoes on, thinking it over.

"You may as well stay over for the rest of Winter break." Hakuba offered. School started the beginning of next week, and hopefully this was the break they needed to wrap the case up in the next few days. "Unless you have other plans-?"

Kuroba gave a small barking laugh. "Not particularly." He admitted. "Alright. I'll stay over on one condition."

"Which is?" Hakuba asked, torn between curiosity and trepidation.

"When this case is over, we have a fancy tea party with Aoko to celebrate." Kuroba grinned at him, as if daring him to argue.

Hakuba chuckled, feeling his mood lift. "I will introduce you to Christmas Crackers." He promised. "And we can all wear paper crowns. Including Baaya."

"Sounds like a plan." Kuroba beamed at him. "I'll look forward to it."

With that, Kuroba vanished out the door, a small flurry of snowflakes marking his departure.

+++

Kuroba was right, Hakuba mused later that afternoon, rubbing his eyes. Lucie Petrescu _ne_ Petit was the key.

She also had a public blog.

It truly was amazing, the things people put online without thinking about it.

He skimmed through the past several years of her life, grateful that while the French he had picked up from his Grandmère was rusty, his comprehension was still fairly good.

Lucie was on the petite side with long blond hair from being outside a lot, and a bright smile. She born and raised in a small rural town in west France where she met her dark-eyed 'Grégoire' by accident. He courted her for almost a year before proposing, using her favourite local song to build up to the event, the the _'La foi de la loi’_ , or the 'Creed of Authority'.

They had wed, moving to Budapest where she took photographs, grew flowers, and helped lost tourists find their way around the city that was her new home. Until she had suddenly stopped posting a month and a half before.

By all accounts, she was a bright innocent person, in love with life and her doting new husband. Hakuba stared at the photo of her smiling face and wondered if he'd ever felt quite that innocent and untarnished.

He e-mailed a picture of her profile picture to Kuroba, adding a link to the blog in the body of the message. A half hour later, he got an e-mail back, Kuroba simply informing him that he had found Lucie, but nothing on if she were dead or alive.

Hakuba sent another message to Megure-keibu stating he thought he knew who the killer was, as well as why. If they found nine bodies dealing with either priests or cheese, Hakuba had broken his code.

It was a couple of hours later, just as Kuroba was stepping back inside, his cheeks bright red from the cold when he got a message back from Megure-keibu.

It was cheese.

+++


	10. The Tenth Day, 4 Jan

Day 10, 4 January

'Cheese' was a mixture of heroin mixed with over the counter cold medicine that resembled nothing more than crumbled Parmesan cheese. Unlike normal heroin, it was inhaled instead of being ingested.

And while it was known to cause deaths among teenagers in the States, the estimated doses their victims took should not have been enough to kill them.

The toxicology reports would take a while to come back, to which Kuroba made dark mutters about betting that they wouldn't find anything there at all. Hakuba gave him curious looks about it, but Kuroba just shoved his hands in his pockets and looked sullen, broadcasting that he didn't want to talk about it.

Hakuba had a feeling that Kuroba knew whatever it was that killed the men, but was going to stay infuriatingly silent on it.

But then Kuroba was being grumpy in general because Hakuba was dragging him along to the killer's Task Force meeting first thing in the morning instead of sleeping in. And mocking Hakuba for putting together a quick powerpoint presentation to show the officers.

The mocking paused temporarily when Hakuba pointed the evil the the officers faced.... Paperwork. There was a reason for some of the private detective's grandstanding and explaining things in detail. If the officers couldn't understand the minute details, they couldn't write them down in the paperwork. Paperwork was what brought convictions and high solve ratios.

If the explanation could be broken down into easy to process chunks that everyone could understand.

Kuroba, very cautiously, then asked if Hakuba did powerpoint presentations for other cases.

The answer, of course, was yes.

However, Hakuba was not going to show Kuroba the powerpoint presentations that were done for the Kaitou Kid Task Force. For one thing, there was the one where the Kid's nose was replaced by a round red dot, like a clown's. Or the one where someone had replaced Kid's face with the Laughing Man from the Ghost in the Shell anime.

Kuroba went from mocking to sulking, then to thoughtful. Hakuba had the sneaking suspicion that someone's computer might be broken into sometime soon. Most likely his.

After a quick meal of coffee and crepes, Baaya drove them down to the Metropolitan Headquarters, Kuroba eyeing all the police officers in uniforms and cheap suits like a cat sneaking through a pack of dogs. It was probably similar to Kid waiting for someone to give a cry that there was a thief in the building and for everyone to start running. And while that might be fun in the open spaces of a museum or on a rooftop where he could take to the sky, the closed cramped corners of the police headquarters was most likely less than ideal.

Hakuba wondered if Kuroba realised that he was staying significantly closer to Hakuba than usual. Kuroba usually kept at least an arm's length away from people, the better to flee if surprised, but their clothing occasionally brushed as Kuroba moved towards Hakuba to avoid running into any policemen.

Kuroba relaxed slightly once they reach the conference room, taking a position next to the door where he could watch everyone and run out the door if necessary. It was amusing, in a slightly psychotic sort of way.

Megure-keibu and his people marched in, each of them lookint grim-faced and exhausted. They had probably spent a portion of the night dealing with last night's crime scene, which annoyingly Hakuba still hadn't seen, then probably had a few hours of restless sleep before getting up early to come to work.

If this were the Kaitou Kid Task Force, he would have asked Baaya for coffee and pastries. But Nakamori and his Task Force never would have suspected him of criminal activity, and so Hakuba took a small petty pleasure in not extending that courtesy.

After all, he and Kuroba got to bed at a somewhat decent hour last night. Or at least he did, he wasn't entirely sure about Kuroba's sleeping habits.

Megure-keibu cleared his throat and began talking, going over what they had discovered the previous night. Which really, amounted to what they had at the rest of the crimes scenes. Not much. The only new thing was that where the bodies were found seemed to be the actual crime scene this time, they hadn't been killed and placed there. The corpses had been spotted a few hours prior to the police being called and were assumed to be drunk party-goers were were catching a nap, at least until the snow had started falling, covering them in it and no one had moved.

Kuroba gave Hakuba a look obviously asking if this was normal. Hakuba nodded slightly and Kuroba grimaced, shifting his weight as if he were already bored.

There was a bit of round table discussion which Hakuba stayed quiet through, then Megure-keibu introduced him to the group. He rose, attaching his laptop to the projection unit. "Meet our motivation. Lucie Petrescu." He brought up her smiling image from the blog. "Born and raised in France, recently moved to Budapest, Hungary where she lived happily with her new husband, Grégoire. At least until she disappeared a month and a half ago. Which is when her husband-"

The image of the dark skinned frowning man glared down at them. "Grigore Petrescu, an enforcer for the organised crime in Budapest, went looking for her. He tracked her through India-" A flash of a pile of dead corpses left in the middle of a warehouse, one hanging from the ceiling by a chain "-China-" Bodies scattered throughout a room in pieces "-Russia-" Just pieces "And Hong Kong before arriving here."

"And this." He brought up a picture of a bit of forest on the outskirts of town. "Is where he found her. Less than a kilometre from Mino Kasago's place of 'business'. According to rumour, she was buried there about two weeks ago, before Christmas."

Kuroba had people skills in spades, something that Hakuba didn't have nearly as much as he would have liked. If they ever teamed up in the future to solve another crime, he was going to make Kuroba do all the talking.

"There's probably more bodies hidden there." Kuroba said quietly. "A lot more."

"You all remember my classmate, Kuroba Kaito, who stumbled upon the first body." Hakuba said, introducing Kuroba. "His knowledge of the local area and assistance has been invaluable."

Kuroba nodded to officers, then shot Hakuba a surprised look at the introduction.

"So what does that have to do with the current series of murders?" One of the officers Hakuba didn't recognise ask.

"When Grigore courted Lucie, he did so through the use of a series of gifts based on a local song the _'La foi de la loi_ , or the 'Creed of Authority'." He brought up the lyrics from her blog so they call could see them, solemnly half-singing the words.

 _"La douzième parti' d'la foi de la loi, Dit' la moi, frere Gregoire._  
Douzi! mousquetaires Avec leurs rapières,  
Onze demoiselles, Fort gentill's et belles,  
Dix futailles pleines Qui feront merveille,  
Neuf plats de chapitre, Pour servir de suite,  
Huit plats de salade, pour garnier la table,  
A Sept lapins en broche, Rôtis à là sauce,  
Six perdrix aux choux, Viola tout,  
Cinq pieds de mouton, Volia qui est bon,  
Quatre, quatre pieds de porcs,  
Trois aloyaux rôtis au maluraux ,  
Deux ventres de veau,  
Un bon farci sans os."

He cleared his throat, his mouth feeling heavy from shifting languages. "It's a variant of the 12 Days of Christmas, a counting song. Roughly translated, it goes something like this.

The twelfth part of the Creed of Authority, tell it me, Brother Gregory.  
Twelve musketeers with their rapiers,  
Eleven beautiful full-breasted maidens,  
Ten Full Casks,  
Nine dishes for a chapter of canons,  
Eight plates of salad,  
Seven spitted rabbits,  
Six partridges with cabbage,  
Five legs of mutton,  
Four pig's trotters,  
Three joints of beef,  
Two breasts of veal,  
And a good stuffing with out bones."

He could hear the expectant hush as everyone suddenly _got _it. In the background, Kuroba smirked, trying to hide his smile. Hakuba ignored him, continuing on.__

"An alternate verse for day nine is 'plates of cheese'." Hakuba said quietly. "Various kinds of Marijuana mixed together is known as a 'salad', and both Marijuana and Strychnine are plant based. We have seven people who tried to run with their stomachs cut in half. Six 'cabbages' or heads. Five severed legs, four feet, three slabs of meat, two torsos and a body without bones."

He clicked back to the picture of Lucie. "Lucie's birthday is the Sixth of January, other wise known as 'Epiphany' to the Catholics, the day the Three Wise Men visited Baby Jesus. It is the historic Twelfth Day of Christmas."

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the love song of a torturer to his dead wife." Hakuba deadpanned. "And there are three days left to go."

+++

Once they had the key, the trail of bodies was fairly easy to follow.

The brothel house of Mino Kasago's, Ms Lionfish, was where Lucie met her death, most likely at the hands of either of the torsos, given the amount of attention given to individual attention given to the early bodies.

The rest of the corpses were freelance, members of the smuggling groups who had helped get her into the country, or associates of said smugglers. More victims were being identified, all of them with tremendously long rap sheets. Kuroba in particular was highly interested in the ones that had tattoos, going over profiles with an expression that made Hakuba think he was memorising their information for later investigation.

If the people who had sold Lucie to the human traffickers thought that by removing Grigore's wife would make him more easily controlled, they were wrong. Hakuba privately bet that there were more bodies elsewhere that they would never find.

In the meantime, they still had the remaining three days to go, the ten full casks, eleven beautiful full-breasted maidens, twelve musketeers with their rapiers.

Ideas for what the 'Ten Full Casks' could mean were bandied around. Alcohol related was a given, sake or wine. Caskets for western burials was another suggestion. Near waterways narrowed the searches down farther, to two possible locations.

'Ju-Kei', a bar that overlooked the Ekoda river that had 'suspicious' visitors, and a western church that did burials for foreigners that had been previously busted for smuggling antique katana out of the country.

Officers were placed on stake out around both places, everyone keeping an eye out for the large Moor. Hakuba doubted he'd be hard to miss, if Grigore showed his face. But the murderer hadn't gotten as far as he had by being sloppy. He was cold, calm and calculated, a combination that made him hard to track.

Kuroba wanted to know if this was what police work was like, sitting around doing lots of nothing. Because if it was, he could totally understand why the police were so eager to chase the Kaitou Kid, just to relieve boredom.

They tried playing chess on Kuroba's phone for a while, choosing to hide in a building across the street from Ju-Kei. Kuroba played Black to Hakuba's White, but the game didn't hold their attention for long. Kuroba pulled a deck of cards from somewhere and they played various cardgames while the two other officers in the room looked at them with annoyance.

Kuroba thought they were jealous and Hakuba couldn't entirely argue.

Nothing happened for hours, the sun eventually setting and sending everything into darkness. Everyone tensed up, waiting for something to happen at any minute. More hours passed.

Around 9pm, Kuroba yawned and settled in for a nap, leaning against a wall under a window. Hakuba yawned and wished he could join him, silently promising that if nothing happened by midnight, he was taking a nap as well.

Time seemed to slow down.

Around 10, Kuroba suddenly woke up, rolling to stare intently at an expensive black car that was pulling up to the bar. A man with a long rectangular face hidden under a dark baseball cap got out of the car, accompanied by a petite woman with short pale hair. Hakuba couldn't see their faces well, silently wondering how people wearing sunglasses at night saw anything.

Kuroba reached over and grabbed Hakuba's wrist tight enough to leave bruises. Hakuba hissed in pain and Kuroba let go, turning around to turn on his phone, quickly scrolling through something with almost frantic motions.

"What's going on?" Hakuba leaned down to whisper.

"When was the last time you heard of Kudo Shin'ichi?" Kuroba whispered back.

Hakuba faltered, wondering at the abrupt change in conversation. Neither of those people could be Kudo. "Officially or unofficially?" He finally settled on. Kuroba shot him an annoyed look. Technically, none of the work the teenage detectives did was 'official'.

"Officially... almost two years ago." Hakuba shrugged. About six months after he had come to Japan to chase the Kaitou Kid, although he'd never met the other detective. "Unofficially, a few times since then. Usually by phone only though. Rumour has it he is trying to stay out of the media..." Hakuba frowned, glancing back out the window at the darkly dressed couple entering the building.

Kudo had been the brightest star in the world of High School Detectives. Hattori Heiji from Osaka and himself coming in a close second and third in popularity. As far as Division One was concerned, Kudo practically walked on water, the boy was a miracle worker.

Until someone had driven him underground.

Kuroba grimaced, then let out a soft breath as he found what he was looking for. "Good. He's still up in Kitanosawa." He murmured.

"Wait..." Hakuba leaned down to hiss at Kuroba. "Are you saying these people took out Kudo?"

"They'll kill Kudo without a second thought." Kuroba growled back. "And he's foolish enough to run straight into it with open arms. Edogawa too."

Hakuba stared at Kuroba with wide eyes. Kuroba sounded almost... defensive about it.

Actually, Edogawa was reckless enough that Hakuba could see him doing that too.

"Right, so..." Hakuba glanced at the window. "What do we do now?"

He never heard Kuroba's response, the lower floor of the bar suddenly exploding, a large fireball taking out the front.

"Shit!" Kuroba cursed, pressing his face against the window as the officers erupted into a flurry behind them. He reached over, grabbing Hakuba by the sleeve, keeping him where he was. "Doesn't matter." Kuroba snarled, looking feral. "Grigore's a dead man."

"What?" Hakuba glanced between the burning building and Kuroba. "Why?"

The reflection of the flames burned in Kuroba's eyes. "He just got Korn and Chianti."

++++


	11. The Eleventh Day, 5 Jan

++

Day 11, 5 Jan

It was about three in the morning when Hakuba suddenly woke up, feeling cold. He grumbled, attempting to pull the duvet up higher on his shoulders, annoyed at only having gone to sleep a few hours prior.

Except it didn't quite work.

Growling in irritation, he opened his eyes, only to find himself staring at a pair of dark ones from an arm's reach away.

Literally. Kuroba had his hand under Hakuba's duvet, resting so gently over his heart that Hakuba can barely feel it.

"Oh, for goodness sake." Hakuba muttered as Kuroba jerked, attempting to pull his arm free like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. They fumbled for a moment before Hakuba just flipped the duvet cover off and away. He used Kuroba's arm as leverage, pulling Kuroba down into the bed next to him and tugged the duvet back over them.

It took a moment to adjust a surprisingly lax Kuroba into a comfortable position, but he eventually had Kuroba tucked under one arm so that the magician's front was pressed against Hakuba's side, his hand still pressed against Hakuba's heart. "Still beating." Hakuba yawned, closing his eyes.

Kuroba did a full body twitch against him, making a confused sound. "Go to sleep." Hakuba muttered, already drifting off.

The last thing he was aware of was the tickling feeling of Kuroba's hair against his neck, making him think of lost kittens.

The thought followed him into sleep.

+++

He woke up in the morning to the feeling of being too hot and trapped. It took a moment to realise the cause of both: Kuroba had him pinned down. One leg over Hakuba's thighs, one arm flung over Hakuba's waist, and ear firmly pressed against Hakuba's chest, using him as a pillow.

It was... awkward and a little touching, both at the same time.

Hakuba yawned, raising his arms over his head to stretch, then tucking his hands behind his head. It'd be slightly nicer if it was a pretty girl, like Aoko or Koizumi. Except Nakamori would have his guts for garters if he ever found Aoko in such a position in Hakuba's bed. And he hated the way he felt after being around Koizumi. It was like all his mental facilities just shut down around her, which was extremely annoying.

It probably said something about his life when he would willingly take Kuroba as a bed-mate than a couple of pretty girls.

He toyed with the idea of both Kuroba and Aoko sharing the bed with him for a moment, then set it aside for contemplation at a future date when someone wasn't currently laying on top of him.

He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, resigning himself to having a bit of a lie-in. Which wasn't all bad, really. It had been a while since he'd been able to just simply relax for a little while instead of working on this insane murder case. Grigore probably wouldn't make a move until later tonight, which gave them some time to catch their breath. They had the who and why, they just needed the when and where to catch him. Which was something Megure's people could handle right now; it was Winter Break after all.

And Kuroba had let slip some very interesting things in the past few days he hadn't been able to properly appreciate at the time. Such as the fact that Kuroba Toichi had been murdered, not killed in an accident.

He knew about Kuroba Toichi of course. The man was a genius, a stage magician of extreme excellence, confounding even his peers. The fact that he died around the same time as the Kaitou Kid stopped appearing was one of the tipping factors into his originally theorising that Kuroba was the Kaitou Kid.

Toichi was quite a few inches larger than his son as well. When the Kaitou Kid first re-appeared, his suits were baggy, as if wearing hand-me-downs. Eventually Kid got suits that fit him properly, but it took a while. But then good suits weren't exactly cheap and it took time to save up to get them.

Add Kuroba having his father's magical abilities and it was nearly impossible for the Kaitou Kid to be anyone else.

Fortunately, while Hakuba did have quite a few observations, he didn't have evidence, which wasn't likely to change. The Kaitou Kid would remain free to heckle the police for a long while yet.

Although it did give him a motive. His Kuroba was stealing in order to draw out the people who murdered his father. Which brought into question why Toichi started stealing jewels in the first place, and why people would kill him over said gems.

It was just like Kuroba.... Hakuba had some answers, but not enough to understand everything. It was annoying in the most delightful way.

Although it did bring him back up to the topic of the mysterious people who Kuroba recognised. Lionfish, Centipede, Snake.... Poisonous creatures. Poisonous creatures that had a hand in Toichi's death.

And then there had been Korn and Chianti. Alcohol. Hakuba closed his eyes, remembering Kuroba's panic over Kudo Shin'ichi, and his double checking that Edogawa was not a part of this investigation.

Edogawa Conan, who was rumoured to be Kudo's protege. A strange small boy who had the habit of suddenly looking and acting much older than his supposed years when thought unobserved or in the presence of one Hattori Heiji, who had the habit of casually calling him 'Kudo'.

Edogawa Conan, who had an uncanny resemblance to a younger Kudo Shin'ichi, like they could have been brothers. Or Kudo sent back in time.

Hakuba was not fooled by a top hat and monocle, he was not about to be fooled by a pair of over-sized glasses. Especially not glasses that were the exact same style that Kudo Yusaku, Shin'ichi's father, wore on the bookflaps of his mystery novels.

He was at a loss at how to explain it however.

Two sets of mysterious men, one named after poisonous creatures, another after alcoholic drinks... One who killed the original Kaitou Kid, one who had sent the illustrious Kudo Shin'ichi underground.

Which was fascinating in and of itself, but he didn't have any proof or other information _other than that_. And while he didn't mind waiting and slowly peeling Kuroba's secrets away, a secret organisation that was going around murdering people, kidnapping women to sell them into prostitution, and smuggling drugs was not something he was willing to let idly pass by.

Data. He needed more data. Which was not going to be achieved by lying in bed, being drooled on by the current Kaitou Kid.

Hakuba rewound that thought and lifted up the duvet to check. Yup. Drool. There was a damp spot on his shirt, where Kuroba's head lay.

He put the duvet back down.

There were days when he cursed the fact that his life was rarely dull, and other days when he embraced it. Right now was sort of a combination of the both.

Kuroba made a snuffling noise, rubbing his cheek against Hakuba's chest like a cat. Then Kuroba's entire body abruptly stiffened as he realised where he was. Slowly, Kuroba turned his head to face Hakuba, eyes bright under the shadow of the duvet.

"Yo." Hakuba said.

"... Hi." Kuroba said, clearly not quite sure what his next move was, since he was past the 'jerking away in embarrassment' moment.

Hakuba bit back a laugh, wishing he had a camera. "Figured a bit of a lie-in would not be amiss this morning." Hakuba said conversationally.

Kuroba seemed to think this over for a moment, then put his head back down on Hakuba's chest with a yawn, muscles going lax as he relaxed, eyes drooping sleepily. Hakuba chuckled to himself, resisting the urge to scratch the wild hairs on Kuroba's head like an oversize cat. After a moment, Kuroba let out a sigh and rolled away, scooting up to take over one pillows. "Sorry for the intrusion." He muttered.

Hakuba shrugged. "Figured it as the gunshot nightmare again."

Kuroba snorted, rubbing his eyes. "Snake's preferred method of execution was a bullet through the heart." He said quietly.

Hakuba made a mental note to check the case files on Kuroba Toichi's death as soon as possible. An explosion was an excellent way to hide a gunshot wound.

"What about the others?" Hakuba asked. "The two we saw last night."

"Don't know as much about them." Kuroba tucked a hand behind his head, gesturing idly with the other one. "I don't think they were there to kill Grigore though, not their style, they're more long-range killers."

"Snipers?"

"Yeah." Kuroba yawned again. "Probably there to recruit him. Methodical insane murderers with brains aren't exactly common, y'know."

"Thankfully." Hakuba murmured. His job would be so much harder if that were true. He had the crazy mental image of trying to put that on a resume as a job before dismissing it.

Kuroba snorted, a smile flickering across his face.

"There is a part of me..." Hakuba mused quietly. "That wonders if it would be better if we did not catch Grigore until after tomorrow. The only people he is hurting is criminals."

He realised a half second after the words had left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. Kuroba went perfectly still beside him, tensing to flee, like a dove spotted by a hound.

Hakuba rolled, grabbing Kuroba's free wrist and his shoulder, pushing Kuroba back on to the bed before he could run. "Not. You." He hissed as Kuroba tried to push back, get away from him.

"These people are _killing_ and _destroying_ other people's lives for profit." Hakuba growled, white-hot rage filling him as he kept Kuroba still. "The only thing the Kaitou Kid injures is people's pride and the occasional window. Should that ever change, I _will_ take you **down** so fast you will have vertigo for days. Do you understand?"

Kuroba stared up at him, eyes round and wide like dinner plates. He licked his lips for a moment, then nodded. Hakuba grunted, releasing him and rolling away, realising his hands were shaking. Hakuba curled his knees to his chest, taking a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down. He felt raw, like his skin was scraped with sandpaper, every nerve on edge.

Kuroba hesitantly cleared his throat. "I'm not-"

"Don't." Hakuba cut him off, running a hand through his hair, tugging on it, the sharp pain giving him a measure of control. "I _do_ realise I am hopelessly compromised when it comes to the Kaitou Kid. At least give me _some_ credit for brains."

Kuroba paused, then nodded, looking back up at the ceiling. "Okay." He finally said after a long moment of silence.

Hakuba could feel something in the air shift, leaving a feeling of peace in the room, like something he'd been fighting against was suddenly gone. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Thank you." He murmured. "I... I am not going to stop chasing the Kaitou Kid. But by the same token, I am quite content to let him retire into obscurity once his role is done."

Kuroba nodded, a strange liquid look in his eyes, like he never anticipated things getting that far. The chances of Kid's capture or death were much greater than him retiring, and they both knew it. "I'm not going to stop protesting though. At least in public."

"Understandable." Hakuba nodded. He wouldn't expect anything less, the Kaitou Kid was a secret identity after all.

Kuroba stared back up at the ceiling, obviously weighing something in his mind. "The people who took out Kudo.... They have a poison. It's designed to be instant and untraceable. What they don't realise is that one in about every 200 people have an... adverse reaction to it and survive, although not without severe side-effects."

"Kudo beat the odds." Hakuba deduced, stretching out one of his legs.

"Yes. Not without some complications though." Kuroba nodded. Which would explain Kudo's sudden disappearance and limited contact. "But the poison is carried in a small book-like case that contains 24 pills. I think Grigore has one of these cases."

Hakuba couldn't help the chill that went down his spine. He paused, and thought about it. "The nine drug users." He concluded. "They did not show any signs of cyanide poisoning, and I cannot think of another poison that would act that fast." They hadn't even had the time to wipe the heroin off their faces before dropping dead. Even ricin took a few hours to react.

"Yeah." Kuroba said, sounding tired. He'd been worrying over that for days.

"If the book was full, he still has thirteen pills at his disposal." Hakuba mused. Thirteen potential unexplained deaths.

"Twelve." Kuroba corrected, glancing at Hakuba, then away. "I don't think he's planning on surviving this."

His wife was dead. Hakuba swallowed and nodded. He couldn't imagine losing someone he loved that much, to follow her partway around the world and slaughter in her name.

"Twelve." He agreed.

Lord, this was a nightmare. "Today is 'Eleven Full Breasted Maidens'." He said carefully.

"Brothels." Kuroba shrugged. "If everything he's doing ties into his wife's abduction, then it has to be illegal brothels."

Hakuba frowned, brows coming down. "The seven rabbits... The people who ran. He snapped the woman's neck."

"Because she was only peripherally involved." Kuroba finished the thought. "He's specific in his targets."

"How many female brothel owners are there that are involved in human trafficking?" Hakuba ventured.

Kuroba gave him a blank look and then shrugged. "I dunno." He snapped, defensive and annoyed. "It's not an area I usually venture into!"

Hakuba stared at him for a second, and then laughed. "Apologies, I did not mean it to be an insinuation." Hakuba chortled. He'd just been thinking out loud. He hadn't even thought about Kuroba visiting such an establishment.

He got a snort in return. "Sorry." Kuroba rubbed his face. "I'm a little... Twitchy. This is going to take some getting used to." He wasn't used to someone openly knowing that he was a criminal.

"No offence taken." Hakuba waved it off. He stretched, the damp patch of drool on his shirt cold as it pressed against his skin. He made a face, pulling it away from his skin, and Kuroba let loose a quiet giggle.

"Sorry about that." Kuroba grinned, looking completely unrepentant.

"I have had worse." Hakuba said drily "Imagine sleeping on the bottom bunk, below a classmate with an unfortunate flatulence problem."

Kuroba muffled a snicker, then started laughing. Hakuba watched him, a feeling of pleasure blooming in his chest. That was how Kuroba should always be, grinning and laughing his head off.

The phone next to his bed rang, the theme to the Guy Richie Sherlock Holmes movie shattering the moment. Hakuba reached over and grabbed the phone. "Hakuba speaking."

It was Megure-keibu. Hakuba tensely as Megure-keibu gave him a brief status report, requesting their presence at Headquarters as fast as possible. "Yes, sir." Hakuba agreed, then hung up the phone. Kuroba had rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on one arm.

"Grigore's moving ahead of schedule." Hakuba said, rubbing a hand over his face, then flipping the fringe out of his eyes. "Our presence is requested downtown."

"'Our'?" Kuroba repeated with some scepticism as Hakuba flipped the duvet up, rolling out of bed with some reluctance.

Hakuba pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto the bed. "You wish to be left behind?" He asked, one eyebrow arching upwards.

That got him a glare as Kuroba scrambled out of bed as well. "No."

"There you go." Hakuba hunted around for where he'd put his deodorant. "'Our'."

+++

It wasn't clear of it was part of Grigore's original plan, or if he'd changed his strategy due to the police presence the night before, but he had broken his pattern of large dumps at night.

Instead, he was walking into a brothel, finding the highest ranking person he could, either stabbing or shooting them, and leaving in as dramatic a way possible, the shouts and cries making the neighbours call the police.

There were some injuries, but only one fatality per brothel.

There had been four such attacks when Megure had called them, it was upped to five by the time Hakuba and Kuroba arrived. Services were being stretched thin, every place he hit uncovered a new den of horrors. Starving, beaten men and woman who had come to the country on the promise of something better, only to be forced into prostitution for the profit and pleasure of the people who had brought them there.

Worse was knowing how many such attacks there were going to be, but unable to predict where and when. Grigore wasn't moving in a straight line or any discernible direction as far as anyone could tell, and in at least one instance, he had backtracked to attack a place on the other side of a location he'd hit earlier.

Kuroba looked at the videos coming in, of the victims being uncovered and shivered, his shoulder pressing against Hakuba's arm. "I think I get your point." He murmured, pitching his voice low so only Hakuba could hear it.

"Hmm?" Hakuba raised an eyebrow, flickering his attention away from the map in front of him, trying to make some sense of the chaos Grigore was causing.

"About not catching him until tomorrow." Kuroba tilted his head to the side. "In some ways, he's helping, isn't he?"

"Currently." Hakuba agreed. In the larger scale, shutting down illegal operations, ending these people's exploitation he was. Not previously, when he'd been an enforcer for the European crime syndicates. Torturing and killing people. "It is a slippery slope, is it not?" He said quietly. "Where do you draw the line, this far and no farther?"

Kuroba paused, his expression thoughtful. "Where do you?"

Belatedly, Hakuba realised he had walked right into that. Kuroba was the Kaitou Kid after all, and Hakuba was a detective. One who knew Kuroba's secret no less.

"I..." He shook his head. "Not here."

Kuroba glanced around at the bustling police force around them. "Alright."

Hakuba rubbed his eyes. "To be honest, I do not know how much good we can do here." He admitted. He could go out and attempt to investigate the crime scenes, but by now any evidence would have been erased by the sheer mass of numbers going in and out of the building. Unless they figured out some way to predict Grigore's movements, there wasn't anything he could do.

Phones started going off around them. "Number Six." Kuroba deadpanned. Past the half-way mark, five more to go. Hakuba glanced up at a screen above that had a map, showing where Grigore was making his appearances. He'd done a 90-degree turn, changing direction yet again.

He stood up straight, idly tapping a finger to his lips. "The koban police have his description, as do the transit authority. There are cameras in almost every intersection. Due to his large size and dark colouration, he is not someone who can blend in with the crowd. Yet no one has seen him. How?"

"He's not following the waterways." Kuroba said, looking at the screen as well. He wasn't near any water channels this time. "We're on to that trick."

"So there has to be another way." Hakuba mused. "Some sort of vehicle? Motorcycle helmet would hide his face."

Kuroba thought it over. "No." He motioned to a few of the roads. "He'd be going going the wrong way down some one-way streets to pull that off."

"Bicycle." Hakuba shrugged, glancing over at Kuroba, who had a serious look on his face that was more likely to be seen on the Kaitou Kid's face than Kuroba's.

The Kaitou Kid.

"Megure-keibu!" Hakuba spun, tearing off towards where the large man was talking to Shiratori. He was only vaguely aware of Kuroba hanging on his heels. Both Megure-keibu and Shiratori turned to stare at him. "Do we have any helicopters in the air?"

"None at the moment." Megure-keibu said hesitantly. "Why?"

"Humans do not look _up_." Hakuba explained. "We have no natural predators from above. Therefore-"

"The best way for him to travel unobserved would be across the rooftops." Megure-keibu finished the thought. "Shiratori-kun!"

"On it!" Shiratori spun on his heel, vanishing off in the distance.

"Good thinking." Megure-keibu nodded at him, and walked off.

"Rooftops?" Kuroba echoed with a small smile.

Hakuba shrugged. "Spent a long time chasing the Kid." He explained. "The other likely explanation is that he is in the subway tunnels, but there are cameras down there as well."

"Hmm..." Kuroba had a calculating look on his face and Hakuba had a feeling of premonition that the next Kaitou Kid appearance would interesting indeed. Kuroba saw Hakuba's expression and laughed. "I'm joking. I'm joking. Maybe."

Hakuba sighed and shook his head. Life around Kuroba was rarely boring.

"Come on." Kuroba clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's see if we can find a map that'll show the rooftops. I can tell if you if I can make it, and see if you think he can."

"Agreed." Hakuba nodded with a small smile.

+++

The random directions were directly tied to how easily accessible the rooftops were around the buildings. They were just mapping the area around the sixth brothel when the call came in for the seventh and eighth, right next door to each other. From there, they were able to estimate approximately he would head for the ninth.

Megure-keibu got a helicopter in the air, and suddenly everything went quiet. Grigore wasn't spotted for hours.

The Task Force got tenser and tenser, little cracks starting to show. Tempers flared, people snapping at each other more than usual as they waited for Grigore to do something.

Hakuba and Kuroba tucked themselves against a back wall, watching the adults stress.

"Do you think this is this something Kid would do?" Hakuba finally asked, mindful of any listening ears in the room. "Take a break in the middle?"

Kuroba thought about it. "It's throwing them off their game." He admitted, an almost admiring tone in his voice.

"Grigore is a master in torture." Hakuba thunked the back of his head against the wall they were leaning against. "Which is not always physical. There are psychological aspects as well." Which could be more disabling than the physical.

"Pry at the weaknesses." Kuroba mused. He glanced over at Hakuba. "Not really my methodology. But effective."

Hakuba hummed in return, acknowledging Kuroba's comment.

It was just turning twilight when they got the call, an attack on a ninth brothel, right in the area they had estimated. The people in the helicopter spotted Grigore minutes later, rushing across the rooftops.

He and Kuroba manned the maps again, trying to guess where Grigore was heading next, but continued to run across one of the fundamental problems with the underground brothels: the police had no clue where they were. They were flying blind, attempting to map a destination that they had no idea where it was.

The shadows were just tricky enough that even with a search light they lost Grigore for several minutes, finally re-locating him at a series of screams and people running out of a building. Number Ten.

And then Grigore disappeared.

The next few hours were filled with tense searching and waiting, only to turn up nothing.

Eventually Kuroba and Hakuba decided that there was nothing more they could do there and left, Baaya picking them up to take them home. They slumped in the back of the car, arms pressing together as they watched the nighttime lights blur by. Baaya was thankfully quiet, leaving the music on low as they sat in silence.

She fed them a quick meal of steamed dumplings and excused herself for the night, leaving them to their thoughts. Kuroba took the first shower as Hakuba checked his e-mail, advising on a few other cases and sending a quick hello to his Mum.

"I don't get it." Kuroba said, walking into Hakuba's room, dressed in his pyjamas and a towel over his head, looking distinctly annoyed. "Today's the eleventh day, there should have been eleven. Not ten. Did he just quit? The police scare him off?"

"I do not believe so." Hakuba turned to face Kuroba, who was drying his hair with the towel with a great deal more vigour than required. The threat of police did not scare the Kaitou Kid off, there was no reason to believe it would do the same for Grigore.

Completely different types of criminals, but similar in their fearlessness.

Kuroba made an inquiring noise, giving him one of those cat-like looks. "There were three times today when his relative location is unaccounted for a sufficient length of time." Hakuba held up his fingers, counting it up. "Before the first call came in. The break in the middle, and the disappearance after what we count as the tenth."

"Actually, I don't think we knew where he was at any given point, but I get what you're trying to say." Kuroba commented with a bit of dry humour.

Hakuba nodded. "My guess would be that after the 'tenth' murder, he went back underground, into hiding. Which leaves us with before the killing spree and the pause in the middle." He hesitated a moment. This is where his logic got somewhat theoretical. "I do not believe his goal today was so much to draw attention to the brothels themselves, although this was a useful side effect, so much as the people profiting from it."

Kuroba's eyes seem to glow somewhat as he contemplated what Hakuba was saying. "There's an eleventh body or brothel out there." He concluded. "One that's been unreported."

"Precisely."

+++


	12. The Final Day, 6 Jan

Day 12, 6 Jan

Hakuba woke up to the feeling of being watched.

Previous to a few days ago, he would have reacted negatively, anticipating an attack. Now it was something that he was starting to get used to, opening his eyes and finding Kuroba staring down at him, like a looming vulture looming.

How Kuroba was balancing on the headboard, Hakuba didn't want to know.

"I tasered Edogawa." Kuroba informed him.

Hakuba stared at Kuroba, waiting for his brain to wake up enough for that thought to make sense. "Huh?"

Kuroba did some sort of flipping rolling thing, landing next to Hakuba, sitting with his legs crossed like he was some sort of complicated pretzel. "Where do you draw the line, this far and no further?" Kuroba said, obviously repeating the words. His syntax changed, matching Hakuba's own, before dropping back to his usual drawl. "It's the worst thing that I have done."

Hakuba stared at Kuroba's face, which was a stubborn mask, giving nothing away. It was almost like a silent dare, seeing how far Kuroba could push him.

"Did you mean to?" Hakuba asked, raising an eyebrow.

"At the time, yes." Kuroba nodded once, curtly. Hakuba couldn't completely fault him, there were times when he thought everyone felt like tasering Edogawa. But there was something weird about the way Kuroba was holding himself, something else there.

"And now?"

A grimace flickered across Kuroba's face. "I would have found another way." He ran a hand through his hair. "I forget sometimes, how little Edogawa is. His heart has been under a lot of strain lately too, not that he'll admit to it."

"You could have killed him." An electrical current strong enough to knock the body out was strong enough to disrupt the heart's patterns. Tasering always came with a slight lethal risk, but on someone so small, the risk was greater.

"I..." Kuroba let out a heavy breath. "Yeah." His voice wavered, just slightly. "I don't think he ever realised that, but I tried apologising in my own way the next time I saw him."

Hakuba sighed, rubbing his forehead. "If you are looking for me to judge you, I cannot." He said carefully.

"Because you're compromised." Kuroba said neutrally.

"No." Hakuba shook his head. "Because it is _not my job_."

That caught Kuroba's attention. He stared at Hakuba, as if Hakuba had managed to surprise him.

"My job is to catch criminals." Hakuba said, closing his eyes and rubbing them. It was too early in the morning for such a discussion. Which was probably why Kuroba was springing it on him first thing, before he got his brain to mouth buffer up. "But the law changes depending on you where are. And there are morals, ethics, and circumstances to consider. If a usually honest man steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving family, is he a criminal? If it is from another starving family, and one of them starves to death, does that make him a murderer? If he steals it from a rich family that would not notice the theft, does that make him less guilty? I do not know."

Kuroba was silent, and after a minute, Hakuba opened his eyes and looked at him. Kuroba's expression was thoughtful, like he was rolling the information over in his brain. "And murder?"

"I would like to say that it is never acceptable." Hakuba admitted. "But if it is to save your own life, or prevent the lives of other people, once again there is no a clear cut answer."

"So how do you decide who is a criminal?" Kuroba's eyes almost seem to glow.

"Intent, mostly." Hakuba shrugged. "Most crimes are not caused for altruistic reasons. Greed is the most common motivator." The Kid didn't steal for greed, he returned what he stole. It was one of the things that made him stand out.

"Nightmare..." Kuroba swallowed, then blurted the words out, as if afraid he wouldn't be believed. "I didn't kill him-"

"-I know." Hakuba cutting Kuroba off, quickly assuring him. There had never been any doubt in his mind that Kid hadn't killed Nightmare, the Interpol agent turned blackmailer and murderer. "It was obvious from the evidence that you attempted to save him."

Kuroba nodded, more of a jerk of the head. "He was attempting to kill me when he slipped. He forced other thieves to steal for him and then killed them. He was selling the jewels to raise funds for his son's surgery."

That, Hakuba hadn't known. "There are other ways to raise money." Hakuba said, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Kuroba's ankle, the closest body part he could reach. "It was his decision to threaten the families of the other thieves-" The expression on Kuroba's face flickered, a slight tensing of his limbs that let him know that Hakuba's guess had hit home. "And no one made him kill other people, that was his choice. There is nothing to say that he would have stopped once he had accomplished his goal."

"It can be addictive." Kuroba's head drooped. "The rush of it."

"On this side as well." Hakuba agreed. He had known detectives that had gone mad with power, the realisation that they could use the evidence to accuse anyone they wanted, the knowledge that what they uncovered could hold power over someone else's life.

Or like Nightmare, used their skills and knowledge to supply a more permanent solution towards the criminal element.

"The slippery slope." Kuroba echoed.

"Yes." Hakuba agreed. "If... I were a better person. I should probably be calling the police in to arrest you." He admitted with a small smile.

"But you're not." Kuroba said confidently, not even tensing at the implication.

"No, I am not." Hakuba admitted. "Because I think you are a **good** person. Despite or because of your occupation, I am not sure."

Kuroba laughed, the room briefly echoing with it. "Thanks." He said, a big wide grin on his face. "You're not terribly bad yourself." 

Hakuba grinned back, something that felt strangely like happiness bubbling up. He really wasn't sure how to deal with that, so he changed the subject. "Come on, Baaya's probably got breakfast ready for us." He tugged on Kuroba's ankle, then released him, flipping the duvet cover away and rising out of bed.

"Yeah, I heard her moving around a little while ago." Kuroba agreed, stretching his arms out over his head before crawling off the bed. There were some slight smudges under his eyes, he'd had another sleepless night.

Hakuba paused contemplatively. Kuroba noticed his stillness and made an inquiring noise as he stopped, poised to climb off the bed. Hakuba lifted a hand, poking Kuroba's cheek with a finger. "Tonight is Epiphany." He commented. "The Twelfth Night."

Kuroba nodded, his expression contemplative. "Friday. School starts on Monday."

"If we wrap this up tonight-" And somehow, Hakuba didn't have a doubt that they wouldn't. "-We can have the weekend to relax."

Kuroba tilted his head to the side, watching Hakuba with mischievous eyes. "What do you usually do on the weekends?"

Read. Research. Catch up on sleep. Solve mysteries. Hakuba smirked back. "Host tea parties."

+++

Baaya fussed over them as they came down for breakfast, tutting over Kuroba's obvious lack of sleep. "You'll sleep better tonight." She assured them. "When all this is over."

The thought that this nightmare was almost over was a bit of a mixed feeling. By his estimate, there were over 50 people dead just in the past eleven days, not counting the people Grigore had murdered on his way over, or the ones he had killed back in Budapest.

... That was a lot of people.

"Do you really think that Grigore is not planning on surviving?" Hakuba asked as Baaya fussed in the kitchen, the kettle boiling for tea.

Kuroba thought it over for a long minute. "Would you?" He finally asked.

Love of his life dead, going on a murderous rampage.... "No." Hakuba admitted.

Kuroba shrugged, spreading his hands wide. Hakuba nodded. The question wasn't if they could prevent Grigore's death anymore, but if they could stop him before he got the next twelve people. It did not seem a lot in comparison, but it really was.

Twelve was more than some serial killers did in their entire career.

"Twelve Musketeers..." Kuroba mused. "We don't have a lot of French fighters here."

"The other variant I found was 'Knights with swords' instead of 'Musketeers'." Hakuba easily jumped tracks, keeping an eye on the kitchen, to make sure they weren't scolded by Baaya. "I think the important part of that is both can be considered mobile infantry, both on foot and horseback."

"Fighters." Kuroba murmured. "Ground troups. So not the King's guard?"

Hakuba tapped a finger against the arm of his chair. "You are thinking of Dumas' Three Musketeers?" He queried, receiving a nod in response. "The Musketeers Dumas wrote about were a part of the Royal Household, but they were not in charge of guarding the King, Louis XIII. That was the job of the 'Garde du Corps' and the 'Gardes Suisses'. The Musketeers were the sons of minor nobles, known for their spirited fighting in the hopes of catching the eye and favour of the King and therefore advancement."

Kuroba's eyebrows rose and Hakuba shifted uncomfortably. "Grandmère is French." He muttered. "She likes the book."

"And you like the history." Kuroba concluded with a smirk. Hakuba raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry and Kuroba leaned forward, the smirk growing into a bit of a smug grin. "The stack of historical novels in your room gave you away."

"Ah." Leisure reading.

Baaya came bustling out with a pot of tea for Hakuba and a french press of coffee for Kuroba. "Thank you." They chorused gratefully, grabbing their respective steaming brews.

"How do ham and cheese omelettes sound?" Baaya asked, watching their reactions. "I've got some nice tomatoes and green peppers to go with it."

His stomach did not roll at the thought. "Sounds lovely." He smiled. Kuroba nodded back. They might change their mind by the end of the night, but for right now meat was good.

"Yeah. I mean, yes please." Kuroba nodded, looking somewhat surprised. It was amazing what a couple of days away from active crime sites could do for your appetite.

She beamed back. "Excellent. I'll be back shortly."

Hakuba and Kuroba shared a smile of amusement at Baaya's delight. It really did not take much to make her happy sometimes. And when it got right down to it, Baaya was a meat and potatoes kind of person.

Hakuba took his first cup of tea, breathing in the rich citrusy aroma of burgamont. Tea, truly a gift from the gods. "Do you have any thoughts for the day?"

"Other than avoiding Police Headquarters, you mean?" Kuroba drawled, looking unamused. Hakuba smirked in response, acknowledging Kuroba's point. Police Stations and Phantom Thieves did not a comfortable mix make. Kuroba's expression turned thoughtful. "I have some people I'd like to talk to, have an idea that I'd like to see if pans out."

"Boys!" Baaya scolded from the kitchen. "No talking about work at the table!"

"We are merely discussing what plan we have for today!" Hakuba called back.

Kuroba stared at the kitchen door. "... Ears like a _bat_." He whispered in awe.

Hakuba rolled his eyes and nodded.

"You?" Kuroba asked, picking up the previous train of conversation.

"Following up on paperwork." Hakuba tapped his finger against the side of the teacup. "If you have any suggestions as to where to look, let me know after breakfast and I'll pass them along. That missing brothel is bothering me."

"I'll see if I can't uncover anything on that." Kuroba nodded.

"... The dead can wait." Hakuba said awkwardly. "The living take precedence."

Kuroba blinked, giving Hakuba a slightly surprised look. Hakuba shrugged in return. He didn't want to presume to order Kuroba around, merely offer a suggestion.

Kuroba's expression shifted into something almost amused, but not quite. "I'll keep that in mind." He agreed, just a touch of something that sounded fond in his voice.

Hakuba nodded and glanced down at his tea, feeling relieved.

Perhaps it was the fact that their adventure had an end in sight, but he was feeling a bit uncertain. It was one thing to form a bond of friendship during a tremulous time, it was another for it to last once it was over. His grip tightened on the teacup. He did not want to return to the way things had been before this had started, with them at odds with each other.

They lapsed into silence. Hakuba wasn't sure what Kuroba was thinking, but he looked thoughtful, his thoughts turned inwards.

Baaya bustled out, setting down plates of steaming hot omelettes and home fries on the table, tutting over them before sweeping off again. Kuroba made a surprised noise as he bit into the omelette, then began shovelling it into his mouth as if he was starving, much to Hakuba's amusement.

They finished quickly, Kuroba heading upstairs to brush teeth and finish getting dressed. Hakuba caught him before he left. "I will e-mail if I discover anything." He informed Kuroba as the other boy shoved his feet in shoes.

"Thanks." Kuroba nodded. "I'll contact you in a few hours, let you know if I've got anything."

"Thank you." Hakuba inclined his head. "I would say to 'stay out of trouble', but..."

"Not likely." Kuroba gave him a huge grin. "See ya soon." With a mock salute and a bounce in his step, Kuroba was gone again.

+++

The next few hours were as dull and tedious as Hakuba had dreaded. He preferred the thrill of the chase, on foot and running, but it was his blessing-curse, he was gifted at research. Gathering information, putting the data together, the small things that people often overlooked, turning it into a cohesive whole.

There were days when he wondered if he should retire at age 18 and become an armchair detective.

 _Boring_.

He dismissed the thought as a flight of fancy and kept digging. A few bodies had been discovered the night before, one of them shot in the head, another one violently slashed, a fast aggressive kill. He tagged both bodies and sent a message to Moorii, suggesting she check the gun to the other victims of the previous day's slaughter. Someone had most likely taken advantage of the sudden power vacuum, keeping the brothel open.

More people they wouldn't be able to help.

He returned to trying to connect the victims together, knowing that it was mostly busy work. Even if they did connect all the victims together, they were dead and they already knew the who, how and why. They needed to stop Grigore now, before he killed again. Which Kuroba was in a much better position to do than himself. He was somewhat recognisable from newscasts chasing the Kaitou Kid, something that was good for attracting clients, but bad for undercover work.

Hakuba leaned back in the chair, debating going for a walk to clear his mind. What were the odds of running across Grigore on his way to the local shrine?

Probably about as likely as running across Grigore's latest kill. Hakuba huffed in amusement.

But still.... He pulled up the map he'd been using to track Grigore's kills and updating it. There had to be a reason why Grigore was sticking close to Ekoda. Shinjuku was a much more logical place for looking for trouble than Ekoda, which was more of a residential area. Although they certainly had their share of problems, if Grigore's kill count was any indicator.

He paused as he finished updating the map, staring at it. Now that they had more dots to fill in the spaces, there was a pattern.

A giant hole in the middle, a few blocks in diameter, as if the bodies had been circling or trapping someone in the middle. Keeping them from running. Hakuba switched to the satelitte view on Google Maps, trying to see if there was anywhere he could locate anything specific. " _Douze mousquetaires Avec leurs rapières..._ " He murmured to himself. Twelve musketeers with their swords... Twelve was a decent sized amount of people, it had to be someplace that could fit that many comfortably, especially for fighting.

There were some hotels, apartment complexes, lots of taller buildings and low skyscrapers. A patch of green grassy area caught his eye and he zoomed in.

It was a family complex, the low old-style Japanese buildings, with giant trees shading a green grassy area and a decent sized koi pond. Something that spoke of money and prestige.

And easily large enough to host more than twelve people at a time.

His phone buzzed and he dove for it, fumbling for a minute in his haste. It was a text message from Kuroba, informing Hakuba to meet him by the house the Blue Birthday was recovered at.

Hakuba stared at the message for a moment, then dove into his files, quickly finding the Blue Birthday case, noting the address that Nakamori had discovered the large sapphire and entering the address into Google Maps.

It was the complex he was just looking at.

"BAAYA!" He shouted, running down the stairs. Baaya was standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his dark trenchcoat in her hands, the keys to the car in the other. "Bless you." He murmured, swinging the coat around his shoulders. It matched the navy-coloured jumper and dark slacks he was wearing, making the white button down shirt stand out as a flash of white around his neck. Not a colour combination he normally would have done, but whatever.

"I'll meet you out front." She informed him, already dressed in her coat and hat. He kicked off his slippers and quickly grabbed a pair of black boots, shoving his feet into them and fastening them.

Baaya was as good as her word, pulling up to a stop in front of the house just as he stepped out. He automatically locked the house door behind him, jumping into the vehicle, giving Baaya the address. She gave a curt nod and pulled away, slightly faster than what was probably wise for the icy roads.

At the time the Blue Birthday had been recovered, it had been theorised that the Kaitou Kid must have accidentally dropped the jewel there, and it was just luck that it had landed on the grass where it could be spotted. Not an accident then. The lead Kuroba was checking out was the place he knew there were criminals at.

Criminals with copious amounts of money.

His phone buzzed again, Kuroba's number flashing. He opened the message, relaying to Baaya to drop him off about a block away from the address he'd given her. She nodded, understanding stealth and the need for it. They spent a tense few minutes driving, Hakuba going over potential worse case scenarios in his head.

If Kuroba was not intact, Hakuba was going to kill him.

"Do you require any assistance?" Baaya inquired, in a tone of voice that implied there was a sniper rifle under the driver's seat she was proficient with and rocket launcher in the boot if they required it.

"This is mostly just recon." Hakuba assured her. Hopefully.

She nodded and turned a corner on less than four wheels. Hakuba shifted his weight and moved with it, accustomed to her driving. He'd given up worrying about her driving skill after the one chase on the Autobahn.

He spotted Kuroba, leaning against a vending machine. To all intense and purposes, it might have looked like he was casually loitering, but his hands were shoved into his pockets, an unusual twitchiness to his shoulders. "There."

Baaya slowed and and came to a perfectly respectful stop. "Thank you." Hakuba murmured and climbed out.

"Call if you require anything." Baaya said briskly. Hakuba nodded stepped clear, Baaya driving off.

"Are you alright?" Hakuba asked as stopped in front of Kuroba.

Kuroba chuckled, giving Hakuba a weak grin. "Let's just say there's a distinct possibility I saw him." He said, sounding not so thrilled about it.

Hakuba nodded, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and pulling out a handful of coins, feeding the machine. There was hot chocolate in the vending machine and hit the button for it. He fed a couple more coins into the machine and got another a can of royal milk tea, reaching down and grabbing both cans. He passed the hot cocoa to Kuroba. Kuroba took it with a grateful nod, clicking the two cans together.

Kuroba opened his can and took a sip, Hakuba giving Kuroba a minute to gather himself. "Snake's Boss." Kuroba finally said, motioning down the street. "Lives down there. Pretty sure Grigore's there."

"Not completely?" Hakuba raised an eyebrow. Kuroba was usually a lot more through than that.

"I was in a tree, he looked right up at me." Kuroba said, just a bit of an edge to his voice. Hakuba's eyebrows rose. Kuroba's stealth skills were nearly unparalleled. "He's here, he's bigger in real life than in his pictures, and he's carrying his dead wife over one shoulder."

Hakuba swallowed. "Okay." Kuroba's hesitation was understandable. "Seriously?"

"Yes." Kuroba closed his eyes. "He's wrapped her up like a mummy, except for her head. And very long blond hair."

Lucie had been dead for weeks. Christ. She had to be falling apart at the seams.

"You _are_ staying over at my house tonight?" Hakuba casually inquired.

"Oh, yes." Kuroba nodded quickly.

"Good." Hakuba said stoutly. They were both probably going to be up and down all night with nightmares.

Kuroba quickly drained the cocoa, tossing the can into a bin. "In, make sure he's there, out and call the cops?"

"Sounds like a plan." Hakuba agreed, putting his can of milk tea in his pocket. "You up for leading?"

Kuroba stared at him for a second, as if contemplating their method of attack before nodding. "Yeah." Kuroba shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, squaring his shoulders. "Come on, we'll take the back route in. I don't think you're up for the way I got in last time."

"Which was?" Hakuba inquired, falling into step next to Kuroba.

"Mostly flying into a tree and clinging for dear life until I got my feet under me." Kuroba deadpanned. Hakuba did a quick double-take, staring at him. His reaction earned him a grin. "I tend to make up a lot of stuff as I go along." Kuroba admitted.

"Makes you unpredictable." Hakuba murmured. "[Murphy's Laws of Combat](http://www.murphys-laws.com/murphy/murphy-war.html): No plan ever survives initial contact."

That earned him a puzzled look. "Who is Murphy?" Kuroba asked. "Is he like a European Sun Tzu?"

"Some what?" Hakuba faltered. "... I'll introduce you to Murphy's Laws after we wrap this up." He settled on. "I think you will like his teachings very much."

Kuroba gave him a sceptical look, but nodded. He motioned ahead of them, at the plain solid wall, not looking terribly different from any other wall in the area. "There it is." An infamous den of evil.

Hakuba nodded, his adrenaline suddenly pumping as he stared at it, ready for flight or flight. They walked along the wall, listening for anything strange, turning the corner and spotting the covered entrance to the compound.

"Best entrance is right here." Kuroba said, glancing around, then up at the tree branch high above their heads, shadowing the wall. "Let me get..."

Hakuba's attention drifted away from Kuroba's acrobatic scaling of the wall, wandering over to the main gate. The heavy re-enforced door was open just a crack, enough to see that there was no one visible on the. Curious, Hakuba poked his head in, looking for anyone guarding the door. Nothing. Curious, he slipped through the door and looked around. 

The insides did not quite match the idyllic appearance on the outside. Trees and rocks were strategically placed to provide cover if one wanted to shoot at anyone coming in the front door. In fact... Hakuba glanced at the door, noting the deep pock marks, someone had previously done precisely that. Platforms were built into the wall, allowing people to look over the wall. There were metal boxes on the platforms that looked suspiciously like ammo boxes.

Glancing up at the building showed thick metal shutters for the windows, and places ideal for snipers to hide on the rooftops.

This wasn't some rich person's house, it was a fortress, prepared for a siege.

"Hakuba!" Kuroba's panicked hiss drew him from his observations. The other teen was still up on the wall, frantically looking down at the sidewalk, scanning the area with an alarmed expression. "Oi! Dunder head!"

"Over here." Hakuba whispered. Kuroba spun on his toes, somehow staying upright. Hakuba motioned to the entrance. "The door is open."

Kuroba hopped off the wall, grabbing Hakuba's wrist as he passed and dragging him into the shadows of the tree that overlooked the thick wall. Kuroba briskly patted him down, checking for injuries. Hakuba allowed it, realising that he had probably freaked Kuroba out by vanishing. This was enforced when Kuroba leaned forward enough that Hakuba could feel his warm breath on his face. "Stay close to me." Kuroba growled, then took off again, still holding on to Hakuba's wrist.

"Ah..." Hakuba stumbled after him, off balance from being dragged along. Kuroba glanced back at him, then appeared to realise what he was doing and dropped Hakuba's arm with a vaguely embarrassed tilt of his head.

"Sorry." Kuroba muttered, then kept going. Hakuba made sure that he was as close to Kuroba as possible, their dark clothing occasionally brushing against each other as they stuck to the shadows. The dark jacket would have been better at nighttime, but it stuck out like a sore thumb in daylight against the pale grey slush that covered the ground.

Kuroba seemed twitchy, his gaze flickering everywhere. He paused, their backs against the rough wall of the house. "It's too quiet." Kuroba whispered, just loud enough for Hakuba to hear him. "There should be more people, patrols."

Hakuba glanced around as well, straining his years. No footsteps, no animal noises, even the running water of the ponds and sounds from the other side of the wall seemed muted. It was eerie.

He pulled out his mobile, quickly typing in a message to Megure-keibu and Shiratori-keibu that they knew where Grigore was, and adding the address of where they were, holding off on hitting send. He held the phone up to Kuroba, to show what he had done. "We need proof." 

Kuroba nodded, then leaned over to look around the corner. "The inner courtyard has an _engawa_ that is rigged like a nightingale floor." Kuroba whispered. Hakuba leaned around him and glanced at the secure interior space, noting the engawa, wooden veranda floor. In order to get from the garden to the house, they'd have to step on it, which would make noise and raise the alarm.

Halfway down the long building, one of the sliding _shōji_ doors was open, showing a light turned on in the inside.

He leaned back, shoulder pressing against Kuroba. "You do realise this is a trap." He deadpanned.

Kuroba snorted, giving Hakuba a look that clearly conveyed that he thought Hakuba was being an idiot. Kuroba had probably realised this ages ago. "Stay here." Kuroba put a hand on Hakuba's shoulder, giving him a slight push against the wall. "I'll check it out."

Like hell.

Phone in hand, he waited a second as Kuroba slipped around the corner as stealthy as a black cat, then crouched down and followed him. Hakuba wasn't quite as quiet as Kuroba was, but he was somewhat passable. He put his feet where Kuroba had stepped, quickly following. Kuroba paused after a couple of metres and turned to look at him, a somewhat resigned look on his face before motioning Hakuba to follow.

They slowed as they approached the open door, Hakuba hanging back as Kuroba bent down, nearly on his fingers and toes to stay below the engawa. He crept forward, raising his head just enough to peer into the exposed room.

Kuroba's eyes widened and he waved a hand in Hakuba's direction, mimicking hitting a button on something with his thumb. Obligingly, Hakuba pressed the 'send' button on his mobile, sending the text. Grigore was here.

A low rumbling voice came from inside the room, causing Kuroba to freeze, then slowly stand up, his hands in the air. The voice spoke again, louder this time so Hakuba could hear the terse instruction. It was in French. " _L'autre aussi._ "

'The other as well.'

Hakuba swallowed, standing up, raising his hands as he walked next to Kuroba. He turned and met Grigore Petrescu for the first time.

Kuroba was right, the man was **huge**. It wasn't just the physical size, but the aura the man gave off. He was thinner than the photos that they had of him previously, his dark skin an ashen colour, nearly blending with his dirty black clothing.

And cradled in his lap was the body of his dead wife, Lucie, her long golden hair falling across his legs and pooling on the ground like a waterfall. Her body was wrapped up with white strips of fabric, the only thing visible her decaying face. She had been beautiful once, but death had not been kind to her.

Hakuba's gaze flickered away to the rest of the room, where a dozen men were trapped in what looked like a game of Ring Around the Rosie. Each man was attached by the wrist to the man on either side. All the men were splattered with blood from wounds on their arms, either from trying to free themselves from the metal handcuffs that held them prisoner, or some because of the knives in their compatriots hands. One or two of the dozen where either dead or unconscious, their limp bodies being dragged by other men's arms as they flailed. In the centre of the ring of people was a support beam for the ceiling, the attached men unable to run en mass.

It was unlikely the knives would be strong enough to cut a limb off, to enable the other men to escape. From the feral and wild looks in the men's eyes, it was doubtful that they were sane enough to think of it. Hakuba wondered how long they had been trapped like this. From the reek of stale urine on their clothing, he would say at least a couple of days.

Trapped, like animals.

Or the people that they kidnapped and smuggled far away from their homes.

" _Vous..._ " Hakuba cleared his throat. It had been a while since he had spoken French, not since the last time he had seen Grandmère. " _Vous n'avez pas à le faire, Gregoire._ " He said carefully. 'You do not have to do this, Grigore.'

" _Aaah... Merci, bon Prieur._ " Grigore thanked him with a kind smile, as if Hakuba had just said something vaguely humorous. " _Mais il est trop tard._ " It is too late.

A twisted tendril of fear twined in his stomach. " _Non._ " Hakuba shook his head. " _Cela n'a pas... à se terminer ainsi._ " It didn't have to end this way.

" _Prenez votre fantôme et courez._ " Take your shadow and run, Grigore said with a shake of his head, looking down at his dead wife and running his fingertips through her long blond hair with a gentle expression on his face. He leaned down and tenderly kissed her forehead before looking back up at them with a peaceful expression. " _Adieu, mon bon Prieur, mon petit Fantôme._ "

Grigore lifted raised his hand, revealing a deadman's switch. Next to him, Kuroba made a hissing noise. " _La douzième parti' d'la foi de la loi,_ Grigore somberly sang. " _Dit' la moi, frere Gregoire..._ "

'The twelfth part of the Creed of Authority, tell it me, Brother Gregory...'

"He is counting down!" Hakuba snapped, grabbing Kuroba's arm and pulling him away. Kuroba stumbled for a second, then followed Hakuba, the two of them sprinting across the courtyard, as far from the building as they could get. "RUN!"

" _Douze mousquetaires_ -" The trapped men started screaming behind them, drowning out Grigore's song. " _-Avec leurs rapières. Onze demoiselles..._ "

Hakuba didn't know how much explosive Grigore had, but if the bar two nights ago had been any indication, he had enough to flatten at least that area of the house. It was the twelfth day, and Grigore was going out with a bang.

The song continued counting down in Hakuba's head, sounding eeriely like Grigore's low rumbling voice. _Dix futailles pleines... Neuf plats de chapitre.... Huit plats de salade...._

Kuroba pulled ahead of him, running with the speed and grace of an escaping deer, choosing to leap on top and over rocks instead of wasting seconds going around them. They reached the inside of the outer wall, looking around for escape. The only entry was the door on the other side of the compound.

' _Sept lapins en broche...._ '

"Fuck!" Kuroba swore, tugging on Hakuba's wrist and running for the nearby corner. It was as far away from the house as they could get, while still being trapped by the walls that were twice their height where they were. There were the defensive platforms on the walls, with ladders leading up to them.

' _Cinq pieds de mouton..._ '

He glanced at the platforms, trying to gauge if there was enough time for them to get up and over. With his speed and agility, Kuroba could probably make it, but Hakuba didn't think there was enough time for him to get up the platform and over the wall to safety before Grigore finished his count.

' _Quatre, quatre pieds de porcs..._ '

"No." Kuroba growled, grabbing Hakuba's faltering arm and pulling him along. "Both or neither."

Hakuba nodded his agreement, pushing his feet to go a little bit faster.

' _Trois aloyaux rôtis au maluraux... Deux ventres de veau...._

They reached the corner, shaded by a small boulder and a small ornamental tree, currently stripped of leaves and flowers in the winter. They threw themselves on the ground, sides pressing against each other as they curled in defensive balls, arms over their heads for protection.

 _Un bon farci sans os._ '

There was a moment of silence, giving Hakuba just enough time to wonder if he had miscounted. Then the world erupted in sound and light, a wall of air hitting them, threatening to blow them away before a raging flash of heat washed over them. Hakuba ground his teeth together, waiting for pain, or something to impact against him, but nothing did.

After a few seconds, he felt Kuroba shift. Hakuba moved an arm to glance at Kuroba, finding the dark-eyed teen looking back at him, both of them checking that the other was fine.

With out a word, they both uncurled, raising their heads to look around.

The house was gone, in its place was a smoking crater. Most of the courtyard was as well, the snow filled grass stripped away, leaving behind a blackened mess. Small fires were starting as burning pieces of scattered lumber tried to ignite the surrounding area.

They didn't need to check to see if there were survivors. They'd be lucky to be able to identify pieces as being formerly human.

Kuroba let out a shaky breath and sank to the ground, turning his back so that he was resting against the rock.

"Is it always like this around you?" Kuroba asked as Hakuba did the same, making sure to put the long swaths of material of his coat under his butt so his trousers didn't get soaked.

Hakuba thought about it. "Sometimes." He agreed. Not that Kuroba had any room to talk.

Kuroba glanced over and snorted, turning to a muted giggle.

They sat there for a moment, their breath and pounding hearts slowly returning to something a bit more normal. The faint whine of sirens reached them, no doubt the police and fire departments.

"You do realise that this is not over yet." Hakuba informed Kuroba, leaning his head back to rest against the cold rock. Kuroba made an inquiring sound, one eyebrow arching up.

Hakuba gave him a lazy smile. "There is still the paperwork."

The agonising groan Kuroba made was one that Hakuba was going to treasured for a long, long time.

+++

" _-Mon bonne Prieur._ " Hakuba woke out of a light doze with a jolt, the grave sound of Grigore's voice ringing in his ears. " _-Ma petit Fantôme._ "

The only thing that kept him from screaming like an idiot was the sight of Kuroba perched above him, illuminated by the beside lamp, rubbing his throat with a grimace. Hakuba went limp so fast it nearly left him dizzy. He was in his room, in house, safe. No crazed Moor coming after them. "Kuroba?"

"Yeah?"

"Do not do that again." Hakuba growled in annoyance. Kuroba gave him a puzzled look that cleared to understanding.

"Sorry." Kuroba gave him a flash of apologetic smile. "I was trying to figure it out, what he said. 'Petit Fantôme', Small Phantom, right? Like a ghost? But what's a Prieur?"

Hakuba closed his mouth pondering how to explain. "A Prior is kind of like a Monk." He finally settled on. "A priest, really. Lower than an Abbot, but higher than a Deacon."

He got a confused expression in return. "Grigore was calling you a Priest?"

Hakuba shrugged in return. In retrospect, he had been wearing a lot of dark sweaters and pale dress shirts under his long coat lately. Possibly from a distance he reminded Grigore of a priest. "The Creed of Authority is a counting song." He said tiredly. "The one who starts the song by calling out the day of the week to 'Frere Gregoire' was called 'Prieur' in the books I found. The idea is that the first person sings the first day, second person sings the second, so on and so forth."

Kuroba made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat.

"He called you 'my shadow'." Hakuba said, feeling tired. 'Fantôme' had several meanings. "I think he knew you were trying to follow him for at least a few days." And possibly that Kuroba was Kid the Phantom Thief. He wondered how long Grigore had been watching them.

This time Kuroba sounded annoyed, grumbling to himself.

Hakuba reached up and tugged on Kuroba's leg. "Stop looming and sit." He commanded, feeling tired and cranky. 

In the end, it turned out that the most difficult thing following the explosion as not the paperwork. Although there was that, as well, Megure-keibu insisting that Hakuba and Kuroba fill out the requisite forms by themselves before they could return home.

The hardest part was keeping a straight face while Megure-keibu treated Hakuba to a lecture about the dangers of bringing civilians to potential crime scenes, being a bad influence on Kuroba, and for nearly getting them both blown up.

It had only been Kuroba's confused expression that had kept Hakuba's temper and tongue in check. Kuroba was the Kaitou Kid. If anything, it should have been Kuroba getting the lecture for leading Hakuba and the rest of the Task Force into gallivanting across rooftops whenever he felt like it. Hakuba knew it, Kuroba knew it, Megure did not.

But it was the lack of suspicion on Kuroba's face that had kept Hakuba in check. It would have been easy to explain and prove that Kuroba was the Kid and therefore more than capable of taking care of himself. But Kuroba trusted Hakuba not to. And so he didn't.

It had taken hours before Baaya could finally rescue them, looking as if the tiniest offence on Hakuba and Kurobo's part would have her grabbing them by the ears and dragging them to the car like small petulant children. Megure-keibu had fallen for it, trusting that she had the matter well in hand. Kuroba had played it up, cringing in the face of Baaya's wrath, half hiding behind Hakuba, who kept his face down and shadowed.

Mostly to keep from laughing.

That happened once they reached the car, Kuroba breaking out into tiny infectious giggles that had Hakuba laughing and Baaya chortling quietly as she drove. A lot of it was stress relief, and the realisation that the entire nightmarish case was over.

Baaya took them home, fed them full of pirogi, polish dumplings stuffed with various cheeses, vegetables, and meats, then slices of chocolate cake still slightly warm from the oven.

It wasn't until he'd taken a shower that he'd realised how much they smelt like smoke and wet mud. It was a relief to get clean and fall into bed.

At least until he'd been woken up.

Kuroba made some sort of tumbling somersault manoeuvre, landing sitting cross-legged next to Hakuba, both of them bouncing a little. "I can't sleep." Kuroba complained. "Not exactly wired, but... my mind won't stop working. Thinking. Why would he do something like that?"

Hakuba sighed. "Kuroba?" He asked. "Do you love your parents?"

He got a sceptical look in return. "Yeah-?"

Hakuba reached up and flicked him on the nose. Kuroba was risking his future to avenge the past, and he was asking that question?

"... Oh." Kuroba settled down. "That's not actually what I meant, but okay, yeah."

Hakuba raised an eyebrow. "What did you mean then?"

"'Prieur' and 'Fantôme'." Kuroba mused, looking slightly troubled. "It's almost as if he had been waiting for us. I thought it was just chance that I spotted him, but now I'm wondering. If he hadn't been watching us too sometimes."

"Possibly." Hakuba agreed. Grigore had several days before they'd figured out how he was travelling, and Hakuba's house wasn't all that far from a waterway. Kuroba had been the original suspect, with the media parked out front, Grigore may have been keeping an eye on Kuroba.

After all, Kuroba's immediate flailing denial of having killed the woman was not necessarily a common reaction. Random gibbering, loss of stomach contents and/or near loss of consciousness was much more likely.

It also could have been Kuroba's rotten luck to have been seen by Grigore changing from the Kaitou Kid to Kuroba Kaito at the first scene. There were plenty of different words for 'Shadow' other than 'Fantôme'.

"Or..." Hakuba mused, drawing a thought out. "He wanted to be seen. By us."

Kuroba, whose night time habit was to parade around on rooftops wearing bright white, made a confused sound. 

"As someone other just as a blood thirsty killer." Hakuba extrapolated.

"But as a person, a husband mourning his beloved wife?" Kuroba finished the thought. They'd spent a lot of time in Grigore's head, especially the past few days, once they'd discovered about Lucie.

Hakuba nodded slowly. 64 people killed in the past 12 days, according to the police count. Hakuba still had mixed feelings on that. Criminals they may have been, but still human. Over a hundred women and children recovered from illegal brothels, getting care and being returned home, hopefully to a better life. 

And he and Kuroba had started to become friends. 

Silver linings in a gory mess. 

Kuroba mulled it over, then shrugged as if it was beyond his ken.

"It is not an easy thing. To be seen sometimes." Hakuba said quietly, closing his eyes. "As you are, not as the masks you wear."

Kuroba went still next to him, muscles tense. "No." He finally agreed. "It's not. It's risky as hell."

It took a lot of trust, to allow someone to see past the fronts, to the real person, flaws and all.

"But." Hakuba added, opening one eye just enough to peer at Kuroba. "It does have its rewards." He added with a small smirk.

"Such as not being alone on nights when you know you're gonna have nightmares?" Kuroba smirked back.

"Or share a meal with." Hakuba agreed. Or having someone there to bounce ideas off of, fight crime together, watch each other's backs. Or just have someone else to talk to about strange things.

Or knew your secrets as much as you knew theirs.

Kuroba snorted, but he looked pleased.

Hakuba tugged on the duvet. "Come on." He instructed. "We can sleep late in the morning."

"Yay." Kuroba deadpanned, pushing the duvet under him down until he could wiggle his way under it. "Little weird though, isn't it?" He inquired, shoving a pillow under his head. "Going to sleep sharing the bed on purpose, instead of sneaking in during the night."

"Honestly?" Hakuba reached over, turning off the lamp next to him. "It makes me feel a bit like being a child again. Staying over at a friends house, everyone crammed together on the same bed." Five or six of them all pressed together, everyone sprawling in the boneless way that little kids usually lost when they got older and paranoid.

Kuroba laughed quietly, probably having had similar experiences. They both shifted a few times, finding a comfortable position without accidentally touching the other person.

Hakuba was just on the verge of falling asleep again when Kuroba spoke again. "I know where you draw your line." Kuroba said quietly, as if talking to the air. "This far and no farther. I won't pass it. And neither will you."

Hakuba let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, then nodded. The slippery slope of ethics. He hadn't been entirely sure where he placed it anymore, considering he was literally in bed with a jewel thief.

Strangely, he felt lighter, as if he'd gotten a blessing for something he hadn't known he'd needed until right then.

Kuroba just made a soft noise, like a sigh, before going still.

Hakuba settled down to sleep, feeling peaceful for a nice change.

Right up until Kuroba rolled over, stealing the duvet.

... But of course.

-fin-

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[Still not finished with this universe, we're having a splendid tea party and you're all invited.](http://mischif.dreamwidth.org/tag/series:+the+12+days+of+murder) <3_  
>  Sincere thank yous to everyone who commented and reviewed, seriously would not have finished without your enthusiasm and encouragement. Thank you.


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